Unfulfilled Prophecy
by Morgana Maeve
Summary: In one legend, the Keyblade master saved the world. In the other, he destroyed it. With the first legend already completed, it is time for the second to be fulfilled. One will step forward to realize this, three will step forward to fight back.
1. Chapter 1

Unfulfilled Prophecy

Yami-396

Inspired by the secret ending of Kingdom Hears 2. Go to my MySpace to see the video of it. I wanted to take a shot at writing my own characters instead of relying on pre-made personalities. Translated, that means I'm taking a big risk, and I'm probably going to get burned. I can already see the dozens of complaints: "It's Mary-Sue! It's Gary-Sue! It sux! You suck! You cant write! Soras OOC! You're stuuupid! SOrAs To CoOl 4 YoU!" So I say this: Flamers, you are welcome to leave whatever it is you want, and you get to see what happens when you flame Yami.

Disclaimer – I don't own Kingdom Hearts, Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories, or Kingdom Hearts 2. I just heart Riku and Sora.

_**----------**_

He never knew.

He always thought he was doing good, traveling to distant worlds, destroying his enemies with a single slash of his Keyblade, unlocking chests to release strange and wondrous treasures. He thought he was a hero, somebody worthy enough to be called the Keyblade Master. And maybe, perhaps to the people of the worlds he saved, he was. But the boy never knew the sacrifices a true hero needed to make.

The goat from Olympus Coliseum had hinted at it, always throwing it in the boy's face that he would never be a real hero, and Triton had said it bluntly; the Keyblade Master brought ruin and chaos to the world. The boy listened to neither of them, dismissing the goat as being stingy, and Triton as being a bully trying to drive him off.

The other boy must have known, after all, he had seen Kingdom Hearts, and had traveled though it, undoubtedly learning of the Keyblade's true nature. And yet, the young boy still did not know.

There was no way for him to know. He had acquired his weapon through a miscalculation of fate; the first choice was consumed by the darkness, and the girl was a far worse choice than the boy. He was too young, only fourteen when the Keyblade was given to him, fifteen by the time his journey had come to end. He never realized the full complications of his flippant use of the weapon, never understanding the implications of that phrase…

"_The closer to light you are, the greater your shadow grows."_

_**----------**_

"You would think he would have realized all the trouble he was causing with that blasted Keyblade of his, all the times people beat around the bush with it." Muttered aloud, the phrase seemed to take a tangible form, growing like a fog of anger around the man's lissome and battle-scarred body, hazel eyes narrowed in annoyance, mouth pulled back into a mixture of a grimace and a smirk.

"Why don't you tell him then?" Playful brown eyes sparkled at him, a mischievous smile playing on his student's face. "You were thinking about him again instead of watching me train, weren't you?" she accused lightly, placing her hands on her nearly non-existent hips, her mop of copper-colored hair escaping its ponytail and cascading off her shoulder. Xenos snorted.

"Winter, I have better things to do with my time then to go hunt down some mentally challenged boy and force him to see truth. Nor do I have the time or patience to deal with you," he added as an after thought, tugging irritably at his jet-black hair, hoping that, somewhere, the brown-haired, blue-eyed boy felt it too. He'd had to cope with the pain brought about by the boy; the boy could stand a minor irritancy.

"Well," Winter snapped, baring teeth. "Just to let you know, you're a horrible sensei." Xenos flashed her a sly grin.

"What did you expect?" he asked her, watching in amusement as her face flushed. "I don't suffer fools." She blinked, and then he was in front of her, his colossal Keyblade swinging in an arc behind him, the harsh lights of the training room glinting off its metallic surface. A gasp escaped her lips as adrenaline coursed through her veins, and the flight or fight response triggered a graceful leap back, her own Keyblade, a smaller affair than Xenos's, flashing as it formed in her hands. She landed splayed, one leg outstretched, the other tucked beneath her body, her free hand holding her balance while her Keyblade twirled in the other.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Winter gasped, pointing her weapon at him.

"When you are out on the battlefield, do you think the Chasers will wait for you?" came the cocky answer back.

"Yeah, but the Chasers are a lot bulkier than you, and they move slower too!"

"So if you can avoid me, then you can avoid the Chasers," Xenos said, completing the rather warped analysis of Winter's question. "Just remember, while the Chasers might be bulky and slow, they make up for it in strength."

"I know that!"

"Just checking…"

"Oh, shut up!" Winter cried, launching her own attack on Xenos, springing forward, propelled by her legs, twisting her body so that her side was parallel to the ground, her Keyblade slicing through air, aiming for Xenos's abdomen. He met her slice with a jarring clang of metal on metal and forced her back, tossing her into the opposite wall with nothing more than flick of his wrist.

"And if you can't beat me in strength, you can never even hope to defeat the Chasers," he said, checking his blade for any nicks out of boredom.

"You're cheating!" Winter whined, pushing herself off the floor, checking for any damaged or broken limbs, and thankfully finding nothing more than a few bruises. "Your Keyblade is a monstrosity! Look at the size of it! It adds to your strength, and you know it!" She was right; his Keyblade was larger than wont, long and wide, with no ornaments curling across its handle, like hers had, and the design at the tip of it was rather impressive, gold and silver rectangles protruding from its frame, creating a Keyblade made for hacking and slashing through enemies. Compared to his Keyblade, Winter felt small and naked next to it, something that made her feel very, _very_ uncomfortable.

"It's big because I'm big." Sputtering in outrage as much as in indignation at the not so subtle innuendo in his statement, she glared up at him, her high cheekbones stained red as she tried not to let her eyes flick to _that_ place. Her resolve lost, and she let her eyes travel there for no more than two seconds, but he noticed, and he laughed…and then ducked as a Keyblade whizzed over his head.

"Tornado Whirl!" Winter screamed, her entire face tomato red, arm above her head, aura calling out to her spinning Keyblade. "I hate you!"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you do," Xenos answered sarcastically, executing flawless dodges and blocks, never letting the berserk Keyblade out of his sight, never allowing himself to get caught in the miniature whirlwinds created by the attack. "And you'll hate me even more for this." He whipped his Keyblade around his head in circles, dragging the still air in the room into its current. "Demonic Current!"

"_Dammit!"_ Winter cursed silently, watching as dark energy snaked around Xenos's Keyblade, infusing into the Keyblade's very energy, creating dark tendrils of sheer power that whipped to and fro, slashing at anything that crossed their paths. Her own Keyblade was sucked into the current, and she winced at the sharp cracking noise of splintering metal. "Sure, kill my Keyblade, you've only done it fifteen times now," she mumbled, watching as the two pieces of her weapon flew out of the currents, the force of the blast imbedding them in the walls. Then the more sobering thought of, _"If I'm not careful…hell, if Xenos isn't careful, that can easily be me."_ As if reading her mind, Xenos took a step forward, the fingers of dark energy lightly caressing her face, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She stiffened as the smell of burning hair swirled around her nose, knowing full well if she bolted, she risked the very probable chance of being killed.

To an outsider looking in, it would seem as if Xenos was cruelly torturing the young girl, playing games with his victim before killing her, but Winter knew that this was not the case. She trusted him, even in times like this, when all he had to do was make one small movement, and she would be dead, with her life. She knew this was his way of testing her, seeing if she was truly worthy of her Keyblade, determining whether or not her wills were strong enough to survive the strain of battle.

And this was not blind trust, either. No, in fact, there had been many times in battle with the Chasers that Winter had nearly lost her life, only to be saved by Xenos, though only she was grateful for the gesture. For every time he had to save her, he would have a snide comment to make, or a new critique on how her fighting style needed desperate improvement, and a rigorous training session would follow, one that could last for hours with no end. But she knew that Xenos cared for her, maybe not in the way she did for him, but that was his way of surviving the harshness of their world. Only the strong survived in the barren wasteland of Kingdom Hearts, as he had told her the night he found her, two years ago, mourning the death of her parents.

Unfortunately, not everyone had that same trust she possessed.

The trailing energy sparks were on their third trip around her face when time itself stopped. Winter felt the rush of cold as her body became paralyzed, locked in position, staring at Xenos's smirking face, frozen in time. And then, strong hands clasped her shoulders and she was pulled back and to the side, away from the deadly energy. Her captor let her go, time starting again, the tendrils going erratic, stabbing the air where she had just stood, and Winter turned to meet the impassive and unapologetic face of Hotaru, one eye still glowing yellow.

"That's really creepy," Winter told her. Hotaru shrugged, the metal of her armor clanking in protest.

"Hotaru!" Xenos's voice was tinged with aggravation. "Why did you stop me?" She turned towards him, slivery bangs falling gracefully over her eyes.

"Because you could have seriously injured or killed Winter," she answered, her sultry voice an amazing contrast to Winter's somewhat high-pitched one. "Winter is not as strong as you, and yet you choose to believe she can handle anything."

"Hey! I was doing just fine!" Winter snapped. She hated this, this feeling of inferiority whenever she stood next to the older girl, well aware of all the physical properties that were bestowed upon Hotaru, that were missing on her own body. She instinctively slumped her shoulders forward, her small chest hiding within the comforting shadows made by the action.

"Yes, I'm sure you were. That is why your Keyblade is impaling the wall in two pieces," Hotaru said, the tone of her voice revealing nothing except a slight air of superiority.

"You were out hunting?" Xenos asked quickly, trying to divert the subject, seeing that Winter was glaring daggers at the other woman. However, it was a clumsy attempt, one that was easily seen through, and two sets of eyes, one brown and the other burnt-orange stared at him, one set in annoyance, the other in boredom. After a length, Hotaru answered him.

"Yes, I was," she said, pulling her heavy silver hair away from her face. "The Chasers have grown dramatically in number, attacking more and more people. It is as if they know something is happening, and are eager to celebrate."

"That's not good," Winter said needlessly. Hotaru sent her a withering glance before throwing her armor.

"Put this on," she commanded, tossing Xenos his as well. "We will need it."

"Why?" he asked, fingers brushing over worn metal plates. He hated putting it on.

"There is a flock of Spiralers heading directly in our path. We will need to fight them."

"You tell us this now!" Xenos squawked, throwing on his armor in newfound vigor. "Hotaru, this is the kind of information you tell us as soon as you walk in the door, not ten minutes afterwards!"

"You were busy," she replied cynically, her lips curling into a sneer. "But perhaps you are losing your touch if you cannot even sense them from a few miles away."

"A few miles? That's it?" Xenos yelled, agitated, jamming his helmet over his head with a bang. _Now_, he felt their presence, the acrid smell he associated with them burning his nose. "Damn you, Hotaru!" he cursed, his voice muffled by the thick metal.

"Damn me later, Xenos," she replied, replacing her own helmet over her head. "Right now, we need to concentrate on the task at hand. Tell me, what are your readings?"

"There are six Spiralers heading from the southeast," Winter piped up helpfully, but neither Hotaru nor Xenos paid her mind.

"Health at three hundred," Xenos muttered, the small screen inside the visor of his helmet showing statistics and readings in brilliant green. He brows knit together in confusion. "But one of them, on the far right side, is only at one hundred. Did it get hit?"

"Yes, I injured that one," Hotaru supplied. "It was the first one I saw. I would have killed it, if the others hadn't appeared."

"Looks like we have quite the fight on our hands."

"Yes, so let's move out."

"Wait!" shrieked Winter. "My Keyblade!" Xenos winced as he realized he might have gone a bit far in his training session.

"Give me it," Hotaru commanded, not even waiting for Winter to retrieve the pieces before she marched up herself and tugged the pieces out of the wall. She passed a metal-encased hand over the break, and the metal wielded itself together again, leaving no sign of being broken. With a slight scoff, Hotaru tossed the newly resurrected Keyblade at Winter, the latter catching it and looking at Hotaru with a mixture of jealousy and grudging respect.

"And you say you abhor you powers," Winter muttered, unaware she had been overheard until Hotaru stopped dead, and turned around, her strangely colored eyes boring into hers.

"I will never forgive my father for what he did," she said darkly, her eyes shadowed by her bangs. She turned and walked briskly from the room, leaving a shaken Winter staring after her, and a slightly amused Xenos rubbing his helmet with his hand, the metal squeaking in the most annoying of ways.

_**----------**_

Had it really been five years?

Had it really only been five years since he had given up his title as Keyblade Master, and left the past behind him?

To Sora, those five years had felt like an eternity, an eternity trapped in a cage full of confusion and emptiness.

Emptiness, not to be confused with loneliness. Sora wasn't lonely. He was always surrounded by a group of friends; Kairi and Riku provided nice company, Selphie, Wakka, and Tidus were amusing to some extent. But, he felt as if he were missing something important from his life.

It certainly wasn't Goofy or Donald. True, they had been great friends for a time, but he had always known in his heart they were simply mere traveling companions, a montage group formed solely from the same purpose and convenience. Yes, he had gotten over the hurt of losing the two allies in a few months after saying his final goodbye to them at Kingdom Hearts, when he had sealed the final Keyhole one last time, locking his Keyblade and its power away forever.

The Keyblade…how he had loved that weapon! Loved how it gave him the power to destroy, the power to unlock, the power to determine the fate of any such world as he chose…all that raw power, all his for the taking. The pain of losing it rivaled the pain of losing his heart; when it had disappeared from his hands in a burst of brilliant white, he felt a wave of darkness crash over him, and it took all the willpower he possessed not to break down right then and there. The Kingdom Key had set him apart from everyone else, given him power people could only dream of…

…_The power…_

Yes, that was what he missed. That was his emptiness, that insatiable feeling lurking deep within him. He missed the surge of battle, the feeling of supreme conquest whenever he sliced at enemies, watching them fall beneath him, squirming, having other people look up at him, worshipping him as a hero. He wanted to feel it again, and a sudden swell of emotion rose in his chest, constricting his heart, nearly drowning him under its ferocity.

"Power," he whispered, enjoying the way the word rolled of his tongue and caressed his lips. "Power," he repeated, just to feel it again, his hand clenched at his sides, as if gripping an imaginary Keyblade. Desire rose within him, coursing through his body, and mingled in his blood, heating it, burning his skin. He needed it. He needed it now, the release that only wielding the Keyblade once more could give, feeling the power flow out of his body into the medium that was his weapon, hacking through masses of enemies, or sending waves of magic spiraling out from its tip. That kind of release surpassed anything, even all that he had ever felt with Kairi, no matter how willing or fulfilling she had been.

"I want it back," he said, his blue eyes staring out unseeing into the ocean. "I want my Keyblade. For what good is a Keyblade Master if he does not wield his weapon?" His voice, which had matured to a sensual tenor in the course of his development, deepened further, need honing his voice to that of a predator. His legs moved without him knowing, propelling him to the dock of boats, and taking one, he rowed out to Destiny Islands.

He had not been there in two years, since his eighteenth birthday, when he had finally realized that being on the islands where his journey had all begun had only intensified the feelings of emptiness inside him. Now he traveled there again, in search of a way to reclaim what was rightfully his.

And deep within him, inside the crevices of his heart, the small sprout of darkness that had been dormant since his time as a Heartless awakened, stretching and yawning, slowly congealing over his heart like a cancer, spreading over it, turning it black as a Shadow Heartless, piece by piece. For as Ansem the Wise had once said, there is darkness in every heart, no matter how strong, and all hearts were born in darkness, and so return.

_**----------**_

"Aim for its spikes! That's where it's most vulnerable!" Xenos shouted over the noise of the battle, as two more Spiralers rolled past him, slow but destructive, their bodies crunching the packed sand and dirt. The pointed earpieces of his helmet, reminiscent of bat ears, greatly heightened his sense of hearing, and he dove out of the way of a rogue Keyblade attack from Winter. "Winter! Aim for the Chasers, not me!"

"I'm trying!" she panted, flipping backwards as another Spiraler crashed to the ground, creating a shockwave that rippled across the battlefield, damaging anything or anyone unlucky enough to be on the ground at the time. "They keep moving around! It's hard to aim properly!"

"Why don't you ask them to stand still? They might listen if you ask nicely enough," Hotaru mocked her, falling gracefully to the ground as a slain Spiraler crumbled to dust beneath her, her sliver hair flowing up behind her, helmet knocked off sometime in the throes of passionate battle.

"Why don't you shove it?" Winter snarled, blocking another attack from the sandy colored Chaser, her Keyblade vibrating under the intense pressure, threatening to snap.

"Now's not the time to be fighting amongst ourselves!" Xenos snapped, driving his monster Keyblade deep within the spiked ridge of the Spiraler's shoulder, eliciting a loud scream of pain from the Chaser before it too fell, joining its brother in the wind as dust. "Come one, we have to work together to kill the last two!" He jerked back suddenly as one of the remaining Spiraler's claws caught him in the chest, tearing through the metal as if it were nothing more than paper.

"Xenos!" cried Winter, but Hotaru was quicker, and in an instant, she was by his side, her eye glowing yellow again as she passed her hand over his chest. The skin repaired itself in seconds, leaving behind a pale and jagged scar, mixing in with the similar ones that crisscrossed his abdomen and chest, some extending to his legs. For human flesh is less pliable than metal, and it does not forgive injuries, nor does it let forget.

"Enough of this," she said softly, leaving Xenos on the floor to pick himself up, or to roll away, the choice was his. She straightened, watching as the two remaining Spiralers caught sight of her, compacting into spiked balls, picking up dust and speed as they rolled towards her, their paths intertwining with one another's, creating a deadly dance and combination attack. But Hotaru hadn't been fighting Chasers for ten years without creating some deadly attacks of her own.

Stopping time was a talent, and it wasn't useful as a killing device, good for defensive fighting only. But the powerful psychic blasts she could dispel were. That was why she had no real use of her Keyblade, other than to fit in with the rest of the fighters of Kingdom Hearts. She closed her eyes, focusing her powers, her eyes glowing a blinding yellow beneath her lids. She could see, in her mind's eye, the Chasers coming closer, only a few feet away from her. She could see Xenos stand up and walk away, trusting her completely, and she could see Winter, standing awkwardly behind her, the small Keyblade held in shaky hands, completely unaware of what she should do. Now the Chasers were close, so close she could feel the heat searing off their armored hides, the unforgivable heat of Kingdom Hearts that could melt the flesh off bones in mere minutes, the reason why the three warriors wore such thick metal plates. Not for protection from the Chasers, as Xenos had shown, it made no difference, but from the sun, and its dangers. Now, the Chasers were directly in front of her, seconds away from crushing her. It was time.

"Psychic Blast!" One hand shot out in front of her body, eyes opening to reveal twin suns, and the two Chasers that were charging at her were caught in the ripple of power, lifted off the ground despite their immense size, and thrown backwards, slamming into the ground with such force, it knocked Winter off her feet though the impact was miles away. The Spiralers' health plummeted to zero, and they exploded into tiny fragments of light-speckled dust. Hotaru lowered her hands, giving silent thanks to that wretch of a father for her power. "Shove that," she said to Winter, a small smile playing upon her lips. Winter glared at her from her position on the ground, and opened her mouth to make a witty remark, only to shriek in surprise and fear as Hotaru crumpled to the ground, clutching her head, breathing hard and heavy.

"What happened!" Xenos asked worriedly, running to her and moving to touch her arm. She jerked back, curling up into a ball. "Hotaru?"

"Something…something is wrong," she gasped, her voice grating as she tore at her hair with her hands. "I can feel it…the boy…Sora…he is falling, falling into the darkness!"

"What?" breathed Winter, but Xenos shushed her.

"How do you know?" he asked sharply. Outsiders to his world were generally treated with such suspicion. Hotaru was no exception; her power eclipsed all of those taken in from neighboring worlds.

"I have a link to the darkness," she whispered, her eyes clenched shut. "It is because of my father. I did not ask for it." She sounded as if she were about to cry. "And because Sora became a Heartless, he shares that link, as all that delve into darkness have. His link has remained dormant for some time, but now that it has awakened, I fear the amount of damage he can cause."

"Damage?" Winter echoed faintly, her pale face hidden by her helmet.

"You have seen first-hand the kind of damage the Keyblade can do if it is improperly wielded, even if his intentions were good," Hotaru explained, her voice returning to normal. "I'm sure he had no idea that for every time he used his Keyblade, it wreaked chaos on this world. The Kingdom Key is not self-suppliant; it needs to find its light from a source, and as Sora had said to my father, Kingdom Hearts is light. Now imagine that very same Keyblade in the hands of a tainted heart."

"Kingdom Hearts will be destroyed," Xenos said gravely. "And the Chasers will be unleashed into other worlds

"But why?" Winter asked. "His story is always told as having a pure heart!"

"He was young and misguided when he received the Kingdom Key," Hotaru replied, not speaking to Winter and Xenos as much as she was speaking to herself. "And what the Keyblade is, is power. And with power comes corruption, feeding the darkness within people's hearts, especially from those open to attack. He desires that power, and I'm afraid he will stop at nothing to claim it once again."

"And then…" Winter trailed off.

"Then he will bring destruction and ruin upon the worlds," Xenos finished, his grim face hidden by his helmet.

"More and more worlds will fall, and this time, they cannot be given a second life," Hotaru said, her eyes haunted. "He completed the first legend, and now he will set out to complete the second."

"Then it's settled," Xenos said meaningfully, standing up.

"What's settled?" Winter asked, following his suit. Hotaru stared at him.

"You can't," she said quietly. "You will never succeed." Xenos ignored her.

"We will go to the Graveyard of Keyblades and retrieve the Kingdom Key before he discovers it." Winter's eyes widened behind her visor, and Hotaru shook her head. "If we destroy the Keyblade now, we destroy any chances he has to wrought death and destruction upon other worlds."

"It will never work, Xenos," Hotaru snapped, standing unsteadily on her feet. "You will not be able to defeat a Keyblade Master!"

"She's right, Xenos," Winter added softly. "We have very limited knowledge on Sora. It is more than just a title, being the Keyblade Master," she added hastily, seeing the look on Xenos's face. "We need to make a plan."

"And just what exactly do you plan to do?" Xenos asked, biting sarcasm lacing every word. "Just sit around and mope, and when he arrives, beg him to spare our miserable lives?"

"No," Hotaru said forcibly, and Xenos took a step backwards despite himself. "We will go and talk to the Elders. They know more about the outside worlds than we do. We will go and seek their advice."

"Besides, the Graveyard is pretty big," Winter said, her old playfulness sneaking back into her voice. "It'd be nice to know just where exactly his particular Keyblade is. After all, there are thousands of Keyblades there. Who's to say we won't just pick a random one, thinking it's his, but it really isn't?" As much as he hated to admit it, Xenos knew that the two women were right.

"Fine then," he agreed. "We will go and seek the out Elders, and find out exactly what it is we are dealing with."

_**----------**_

Am I evil? Yeah, probably to Disney.

Xenos – It means foreigner. Is it significant? Probably not, I liked the way it sounded.

Winter – If Square Enix is allowed to name one of their characters 'Cloud Strife,' I think I'm entitled to name mine 'Winter.' Not to say Cloud is a bad name, though.

Hotaru – It means firefly. Get it? Glowing eyes…Yeah, corny!

Flamers – Flame. 'Cause we all know, no matter how big and bad you think you are, Axel rocks harder than all of you combined.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Yami396

I have a million more important things to be doing right now instead of writing Chapter 2, but here I am, sitting in front of my computer, writing it. My brain is screwed up.

I'd like to say thanks to Ri2 for being my first reviewer, and thanks to Anonymous Phantom Writer who scared me into updating earlier than expected. This chapter is also dedicated to these two.

Disclaimer: I own Xenos, Winter, Hotaru, the idea of what the Chasers are, the idea of what Kingdom Hearts is like, the plot, and Sora's attitude problem. Kingdom Hearts the game belongs to Square Enix and Disney, and all that I own from this is my hypocrisy because I lust after Riku and Sora, and I yell at ------ for lusting after Tifa.

------------

Sitting under the twin waterfalls near the entrance to the Secret Place, Sora basked in its welcome coolness upon his heated skin. He had forgotten how humid it could be on the tropical island; five years of air-conditioning had weakened his body more than he thought, and in his haste to find completion, had suffered an almost serious bout of heat stroke. If it hadn't been for the immeasurable amount of luck that seemed to plague his existence, he would not have stumbled into the cool embrace of the trees, nor would he have collapsed straight into the shallow pool. But luck aside; Sora was grateful that his impromptu plan had not given way to dire consequences.

He was the first to admit it; he was no master tactician. He knew perfectly well he fought primarily on instincts, and rarely ever spared the time to concoct a true battle plan that consisted of more than wailing in on the enemy, and casting magic a few times to make sure none of his allies died. And now he berated himself, head still poised under the pounding waterfall, about his lack of patience and his naiveté of his actions.

"Idiot. I nearly died there," he muttered, uncaring that he swallowed a bit of the waterfall in the doing so. "What was I thinking, running around the island like that?"

The little voice that lived in the back of his head piped up, "You weren't!"

Choosing to ignore the brutally honest imaginary mini-Sora, he continued, "I've got to be systematical about this. I need to find a way to call the Keyblade back."

"At least we have an objective now," mini-Sora said sardonically.

"But the Keyblade is locked in Kingdom Hearts…and I have no way of getting there on my own," Sora continued, unaware of the growing danger of drowning as he tilted his head back, deep in thought, mouth partially open.

"You can try a Gummi Ship," the mini-Sora supplied. "They always worked, even when the paths to separate worlds were broken."

"But I have no Gummi Ship," Sora replied, wondering if this was how Riku felt when he was possessed by Ansem. Come to think of it, hadn't Riku mentioned Ansem used to whisper to him, strange little things, while they had shared a body, that one time, when the trio of friends had had a bit too much to drink? Or had that been just the effects of alcohol? "And I searched the island a few years back for them. I couldn't find one!"

"Well now, we have a dilemma," the mini-Sora said, thoughtfully rubbing its chin, leaving Sora painfully aware of how he had just imagined a chibi version of himself, sitting cross-legged on his brain, stroking its chin. "We can always do how Riku and The Beast did."

"You mean travel with no ship?" Even to Sora, who had once been the optimist of optimists, the suggestion seemed absurd. "Riku went more than crazy looking for Kairi, and The Beast…The Beast was a beast! Even Maleficent said it was foolish to travel between worlds with no vehicle!"

"But," the mini-Sora began, but Sora cut him off, swallowing even more water in his haste to make his point clear.

"And besides, I have no idea where the entrance to this world is anyway!"

"Then you're just plain stupid," the mini-Sora barked. "You've seen the entrance before, you just didn't know what you were looking for!"

"If you're so smart," Sora snarled, realizing that he was having a conversation with himself, out loud, yelling loud enough to risk being heard. "You tell me where it is!"

"But where would the fun be in that?" mini-Sora asked, its personality shifting slightly to that of the Cheshire Cat. "But I can give you a hint. You found mushrooms in it once."

"What kind of hint is that?" But still, Sora had learned that sometimes it was good to listen to his instincts, and if the little annoying voice in his head was his instincts, he would listen to it. Mushrooms though? He didn't even relatively like mushrooms…he had a vendetta against eating fungus, although Riku assured him it was a delicacy. "Mushrooms like to grow in dark damp places," he said, reciting lessons learned in Science classes of past. "That narrows it down to around here," he concluded, looking surreptitiously around him, in case a door should pop up out of unknown origins.

"Very good!" the mini-Sora mocked, clapping its imaginary hands together. "Now, to pinpoint its direct location!"

"It can't be too far away from the waterfalls," Sora answered, running his hand through his soaked hair. Hazy memories were starting to resurface, ones that entailed the days before that fateful night of the storm, before he was the Keyblade Master, when the three of them still wanted to travel to other worlds. He had been on supply duty, but he had gotten distracted…he had been in the Secret Place, and he had been looking at the drawings on the wall, and then the creepy disembodied voice he now could identify as Ansem talking to him, telling him his world had been connected…and then later that night, when the mysterious doors had appeared at the entrance way, and Kairi was flying through his arms as the door in the back of the cave that would never open opened…Sora's head jerked back and he gasped, choking and sputtering on the water that invaded his mouth and trickled down into his lungs. "The Secret Place!"

"Finally got around to thinking," the mini-Sora said.

"But I can't go through there. The door's locked."

"Try to remember, did you ever actually lock this world's heart?" Sora's eyes widened as he realized the implications of the question. Now that he thought about it, he never had locked the Destiny Islands, had he? He had always assumed it would be safe from the Heartless, and the Nobodies and Organization XIII never bothered his world. It hadn't been necessary to lock it. "No, you didn't," the mini-Sora continued. "And that means that this world is like a portal, free for anything to come in, and free for anything to leave if it so chose."

"Yes," Sora agreed, and the forgotten desire welled up once again within him, that insistent urgency to claim what was his clouded his mind, and the darkness that resided in his heart twisted and wriggled in pleasure. "If I open the door again, I will find my Keyblade." His voice switched back to the husky one of the predator, a predator that was hungry, dangerous. He stood, fully intent on marching into the Secret Place and forcing the door to open, even if he had to rip it from the wall with his bare hands, but then quickly crouched back down as feet appeared through the thick foliage. He growled, a deep vibration that ran up and down his throat but stopped as a familiar voice rang out:

"Sora? Are you here?" The growl turned to a chuckle; after all, his desire-ridden body only knew it needed completion, and if he couldn't have his Keyblade just yet, Kairi was a fair substitute. He crouched lower, hidden by the overgrown tangle of branches and vines, waiting as Kairi's feet disappeared and then doubled back, before springing out and tackling her, pulling her screaming into the cool water.

"Relax, Kairi," he told the struggling woman, and at the sound of his voice, she ceased fighting, and melted into his chest as his lips claimed hers.

------------

Winter tilted her head back, allowing the stream of warm water to roll off her hair and down her back, stopping to bead on her legs before landing soundlessly on the tiled floor of the shower. The water had a soothing effect on her worn-out body, easing some of the tension gathered in her shoulders, and as she turned it off, she allowed herself to enjoy the steam that gathered around her. But the steam was evanescent, and it dispersed quickly, leaving a shivering Winter to flounder about for a towel, and, once one had been procured, wrapping it deftly around her thin frame, she set to work braiding her sopping hair, all the while avoiding the mirror.

Meanwhile, Hotaru leaned against the wall, straining against the tidal wave of emotions and memories threatening to break through the mental barrier she kept around them at all times.

"You only feel pain when you let yourself," she whispered, repeating the mantra she had always used ever since she was six years old.

"So if Winter finally snaps one day, and stabs you with a kitchen knife, you won't feel it if you don't allow yourself to?" Startled, Hotaru's head snapped up, her left hand automatically jerking to call her Keyblade. "Calm down, it's only me." Hotaru sighed, and closed her eyes again.

"One day, Xenos, you're going to get yourself killed," she said, her cool outer demeanor hiding her painful inner turmoil. "More importantly, Winter would kill you first." Xenos grinned cockily.

"True, but with my good looks, I bet I can seduce that knife out of her hand."

"That's why she would kill you first," Hotaru said dryly, cracking open one eye to look at him. "You and your comments."

"At least I speak what's on my mind." Hotaru tensed. "The only time I ever hear you say more than a few sentences is when you talk about the Chasers. Other than that, you're silent. What are you hiding?" He meant it in a casual way, a simple flippant comment, and yet, those carelessly chosen words casually shattered Hotaru's barrier. Memories flooded out, replaying some of her worst memories over and over again, swamping her in pain and sorrow.

"_What are those things in the basement, Father? They scare me."_

"_Father, what happened to Mother?"_

_"What's that machine in the basement? What does it do?"_

_"What's happening! Why are more and more people disappearing! And why do the black things in the basement keep growing in number!"_

And finally,

_"Don't worry, my little Hotaru. This is just a simple experiment."_

_Searing pain._

Hotaru unconsciously rubbed her left eye.

"Got something in your eye?" Xenos asked, grinning. Hotaru glared at him.

"You have no idea," she said icily. Momentarily shocked by the unusual amount of animosity in her voice, Xenos stood there, mouth open and gaping like a fish, before he angrily began to speak again.

"Hey, I don't know where you get off—"

"Of course he has no idea, he's Xenos!" Winter yelled a bit too brightly, bounding down the hallway, her braid bouncing on her back. "So, when are we leaving? Tomorrow?" Xenos opened his mouth again, unwilling to give up on his tirade. He was cut off again.

"We leave now," Hotaru said, the tone of her voice leaving no room for discussion. Winter ignored it.

"We're leaving now?" she asked incredulously, while Xenos heaved a long and exaggerated sigh behind her. "After you make me go take a shower? What was the point?"

"You smelled rather badly," Hotaru answered.

"I hate you sometimes, I really do." But as Xenos pushed past them in the hallway, and they fell into their usual order of Xenos, followed by Hotaru, with Winter bringing up the rear, Hotaru sent the younger girl a small thanks with her eyes, and was rewarded by a wide smile and a wink. Very few things passed by Hotaru unnoticed, and she knew an intervention when she saw one. "How long will this take?" Winter asked.

"Three hours at best," Hotaru answered. "Longer if we hit Chasers."

"And we all know that's going to happen," Xenos said. "Like we would be lucky enough to avoid Chasers."

"Stupid Chasers," Winter added.

"This is truly pathetic," Hotaru finished.

------------

Something was wrong; she knew it. Riku was mumbling in his sleep again, nonsense phrases about Kingdom Hearts, a graveyard of Keyblades, and of Sora.

_"The Keyblade Master brings death and destruction to all. He will open the door, and all will be lost to darkness."_

She shivered, staring out at the vast ocean that surrounded her home, the ocean that had returned her friends, the ocean that had stolen them away and made them into different people.

Riku had turned into a bundle of nerves ever since he returned; Wakka had snuck up on him once and nearly had his arm snapped off. He disliked the sun, his skin more sensitive to light now and it burned after only a few minutes, but he refused to move into the shade. Shade reminded him of his sins, as did the dark, and though he denied it, Kairi knew he kept one light on when he fell asleep each night. The only time she had ever seen Riku truly happy was the time she caught him, up in the paopu tree, watching the dawn spread its fingers across the sky. The look on his face had been akin to joy, and in that moment, he had looked the Riku he had once been.

But Sora had changed the most, far worse than Riku had. He had once been cheerful, always smiling, no matter how bad the situation was. But when the King had brought him back from his final mission, Sora looked utterly devastated, scared and insecure without his Keyblade.

_"But maybe your smiles and antics were all a mask,"_ Kairi thought, the sea-spray clinging to her face and hair. _"Maybe you were always scared and you just hid it from all of us."_

------------

Three hours and several battles later, Xenos called out, "Are we there yet?"

"No," Hotaru replied stoically. A few minutes passed in silence, and then,

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"You are such a pain!" Winter yelled, aggravated to the point where she was seriously considering ramming her Keyblade into Xenos's thick skull. But she didn't because that would make a rather bloody mess, and Winter was too hot and tired to even bother thinking about washing bloodstains from her armor. "Can't you be quiet for five minutes?"

"Can't you two take anything seriously?" Hotaru snapped, pointed earpieces swishing through the windless air as she walked.

"I am taking this seriously!" Winter whined, stamping her foot in childish temper. "It's him who isn't!"

"Hey! I do take this seriously. I'm just damned sick of walking and fighting!"

"We all are!"

"At least I'm not a whiner!"

"You take that back!"

"Children, behave."

"To hell with both of you!"

"Very clever, Winter."

"Hotaru, I don't want to hear your impassive and incredibly hot voice any more. Got it?"

"…Now you die."

Their voices escalated, combining together to create one unintelligible roar that carried through the arid air and across the desert.

"Gah! Watch where you're pointing that thing!"

"I was aiming for Hotaru."

"You have lousy aim."

"Eat my Keyblade!"

"You hit me!"

"Xenos, your helmet is bent."

"Look what you did, Winter!"

"Don't throw that at me!"

"Too late!"

Xenos's monolithic Keyblade hurtled towards Winter and she dropped to the ground, a cloud of red dust rising up and settling on her. The Keyblade flew over her head, humming, and rebounded off a spire composed entirely of brown and red rock, massive and eroded. It clattered to the ground, covered in red as well, and dozens of hairline cracks created a web on the surface of the rock formation.

"My Keyblade better not be broken."

Boulders began to rain down from the spire, and the ground quaked. The thin cracks became wider and longer, zigzagging from the point of impact to the peak, and a dull roaring sound issued forth, as if compressed air had suddenly been released from a small hole.

And somewhere, deep within the rock prison, a great beast breathed its first breath after years of imprisonment. Molten red eyes opened, and the beast stretched, breaking out from the spire bit by bit, using its elongated claws and teeth to help the natural destruction.

"What did you do?" Hotaru cried, her gloved hands tense and rigid, positioned to wrap around Xenos's throat in seconds.

"She did it!" he yelled, very aware of the danger he was in. "If she hadn't hit me!"

"If you hadn't thrown your Keyblade of Doom, you wouldn't have done whatever it is you just did!" Winter countered, jabbing him in the armor.

"Don't blame this on me!"

"It's your fault!"

A metallic roar stopped Xenos and Winter's bickering, and all three friends scattered like fleas as a gigantic paw fell towards them, crushing the very place where they had stood.

"What is that?" Winter whimpered, her eyes wide underneath the helmet.

"A really big Chaser," Xenos said, equally as stunned and awed by the massive creature. It stood tall, taller than the spire that had imprisoned it, with saber-like teeth that gleamed, and deadly claws, claws that made the Spiralers' claws look like playthings. It's red eyes bored into the two teens' eyes, and it threw its head back and roared again.

"It's the Iwahara Honoo. The Stone Meadow Flame," Hotaru said, reading off her screen. "It's pretty much invulnerable to physical attacks."

"That's uplifting," Xenos muttered, watching as the monster Chaser slowly crept towards them.

"Let me finish," Hotaru said impatiently. "There are a few points of weakness. The pads of its paws are very sensitive, though I don't know how we're going to attack there, but on its back, there should a spot of soft flesh. Attack there, and it should die," she finished, her screen disappearing from her view.

"And just where is it located? Its back is huge!" Winter asked, pointing to the Iwahara Honoo. "It could be anywhere!"

"It didn't say," Hotaru sighed. "It only said somewhere on its back."

"Yeah, well, we can't do anything until I get my Keyblade back," Xenos stated, leaping to his feet. The Iwahara Honoo noticed the movement, and it charged, head lowered, the thick plating covering it hard enough to smash bone with little force. Xenos kept running, meeting the charge head on, and at the last second, while Winter clutched Hotaru in fright, he dove into the space between its head and the desert rocks, skimming beneath its underside and legs until he cleared it, and flipped into the air, landing a few feet away, Keyblade in hand.

_"Now, you little sucker, you're mine,"_ Xenos thought, a wicked grin plastered on his face. Muscles tensed, and then, using another rock as leverage, he leapt, nearly weightless, and glided, his Keyblade ready to dive into the Iwahara Honoo.

At least, that was what he planned to do.

As Xenos neared it, losing altitude, the Iwahara Honoo's head twisted all the way around, and a column of fire emitted from its mouth, directly in Xenos's path. He cursed, and flipped in mid-air, the bottom of his boots scorched, and landed gingerly, testing to see if his feet were burned.

"Why didn't you tell me the thing breathes fire?" he yelled.

"I thought you knew!" Hotaru yelled back. "Flame is part of its name!"

"Look out!" Winter yelled, diving for cover as another massive paw came crashing down near them. Several more rocks fell from the other spires around them, some debris as small as pebbles. And with that, Winter began to formulate a plan. Inching around, and avoiding another explosion of fire, she aimed her Keyblade at one of the fallen boulders, throwing it with all her strength, and completely demolished her target. Shards of rock flew past her, a few bouncing off her thick armor.

"What are you doing?" Hotaru asked her, momentarily distracted by the noise.

"You'll see," Winter assured her, a small smile playing on her lips under her helmet. "But I'll need your help."

"How so?"

"I need you and Xenos to distract it while I get ready." Hotaru nodded.

"I believe that is in my power." She ran off, her Keyblade glinting in the strong sunlight. She had no clue as to what Winter was planning, but they had all learned, in battle, they needed to trust one another. So she left Winter to her own devices and joined Xenos, who was currently jumping around in the air, trying to land on the Iwahara Honoo's back and avoid its flame attack at the same time. The imagery it produced was fairly amusing, but given the solemnity of the situation, it was also fairly misplaced.

"Xenos! Out of the way for a moment!" she yelled, gripping her Keyblade by its shaft. As she neared the Iwahara Honoo, she pulled her arm back and threw her body forward, throwing her Keyblade like a javelin. It sailed through the air and hit its mark – the liquid red of its eyes. Hotaru crashed to the ground, bruised, and rolled out of the Iwahara Honoo's way as it stampeded madly around, pain radiating from its injured eye.

"How did you know to hit its eye?" Xenos asked in wonder as she picked herself up.

"You can't train your eyes," she answered shortly. "Are you done yet?" she called to Winter, who nodded, and scurried over, her arms full of rock shards.

"Now I need you to lure it over here. And Xenos, be ready to find the spot on its back," she said, scattering the small rocks on the ground haphazardly.

"Why are you littering the ground with rock scraps?" Xenos asked her, picking one up. "And they're sharp too! What gives?"

"Its paws are sensitive," Hotaru answered, her eyes lighting up. "I see. You're going to distract it with the rocks and Xenos is going to attack it." Winter nodded.

"How do you people come up with these plans?" Xenos wanted to know. "I would have never thought of that."

"That's why you have us!"

"Yes," Hotaru agreed. "Now go!" Xenos turned to the Iwahara Honoo and stood in front of the path of rocks.

"Hey, you ugly hunk of rock!" he taunted. The Iwahara Honoo's head snapped over to the sound of the noise, its one good eye narrowed, the other trickling blood. "Yeah, I'm talking to you! You pathetic waste of air, I bet you can't even kill a fly, never mind me!"

The Iwahara Honoo did not understand human language, but it understood body movement, and it knew that its prey was taunting it. With a roar that vibrated even in its own head, it charged again, its limited eyesight fixed on the fighter. But when it did not move as it had done before, the Iwahara Honoo knew instinctively that something was wrong, but, with all its weight pushed into its stride, it could not stop. Its prey dove to the side, and the Iwahara Honoo crashed straight into Winter's trap. It screamed, a high-pitched whine as sharp stones cut into the soft pads of its paws. Blindly, it sought escape, stomping and crashing, swinging its head around, but the rocks were everywhere, and more and more of them were imbedded in its feet, adding white-hot pain to the dull throb of its previous injury.

Winter watched, pleased as the Iwahara Honoo writhed in pain, its head whipping around in an endless cycle. There was a flash of movement to her right, and she stilled for moment, afraid that it might be more Chasers come to help. And then, her breath caught in her throat as she watched Xenos, helmet gone, soar through the air, his hair flowing out behind him. There was a certain masculine gracefulness to his movement, the way his face was set, the way she knew his body was tense under his armor, and it humbled Winter, it made her blush as she wondered how it would feel to be held by someone like that.

Up in the air, Xenos plotted his next move carefully. He would have to land on its back and make quick work of finding that weak spot before it could realize he was there. If he could scan it now, it would be easier for him to kill it; with the way the Iwahara Honoo was thrashing about, he was going to have problems keeping his balance for very long.

Then finally, he found it. Nestled between its thick neck and back, there was a small fold of flesh, supple and stretching as the Iwahara Honoo raged below him.

"Now, you are definitely mine," Xenos whispered. Arcing his Keyblade across his body, he created the extra momentum needed to land on its back, right in front of the vulnerable flesh. The Iwahara Honoo, feeling Xenos's landing, reared, its back nearly vertical to the ground, and as it fell, Xenos stabbed it, Keyblade tearing through skin, veins, and arteries. The Iwahara Honoo, already greatly weakened by the rocks, stopped, and, almost as if it were confused, turned its head side to side before a long keening wail rose from its throat; its death cry. Slowly, it sank to its knees, collapsing unto itself, and in the midst of another wail, the Iwahara Honoo died. Xenos jumped from its back and barely had time to stow away his Keyblade and smooth down his hair before he was caught in the crushing grip of Winter's embrace.

"That was amazing!" she squealed and Hotaru nodded in agreement.

"Yes, that was very impressive young man."

Startled, Xenos dropped Winter and looked up at the three figures that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. Hotaru dropped to her knees and bowed.

"Elders," she murmured, and the speaker, an ancient looking woman, smiled.

"You may rise, child. There is no need for such formality."

"These are the Elders?" Winter whispered to Xenos.

"Don't look like much, do they?" he whispered back, and Hotaru glared at them.

"Respect!" she hissed.

"We have seen your coming," one of the others, this time a man, said. "And we have seen your leaving. Now we will tell you of your stay. I am Urd, Keeper of the Past."

"And I am Verdandi," the woman continued, introducing herself. "Verdandi, Keeper of the Present."

"And I am Skuld, Keeper of the Future," the other man finished.

"We are," Xenos started, but Skuld waved him off.

"We know who you are," he said. "You, young man, are Xenos. The girl with the gold hair is Winter."

"The woman with haunted eyes is Hotaru," Verdandi completed. "Yes, we know you very well." Hotaru's eyes had narrowed, but she said nothing.

"We came here to ask you about the Graveyard of Keyblades," Winter explained, looking everywhere except at the Elders, with their flowing robes and dark piercing eyes.

"Yes, I know of your reason. I have seen you come and go already," Skuld said. "And we will tell you where to go."

"But your path will not be easy," Urd picked up. "It will be fraught with perils. Are you still wanting to go?" The trio nodded.

"Then I will tell you where you where to go," Verdandi said. "Follow the sun to its horizon. When you reach there, you will reach the end of this world. Follow the edge, and you will come upon a crossroad. At this crossroad, there will be what you seek and more."

"You will find what you are seeking at the edge of the crossroad. But you must act quickly, for your enemy will be with you as well," Skuld said. "You will know what to take by your hearts."

"The horizon?" Xenos asked skeptically. "The horizon is unreachable."

"As is your goal with that attitude," Verdandi replied, almost cheekily.

"To help you with your search, we will each show you three things. One from the past…" said Urd.

"One of the present…" said Verdandi.

"And one that has yet to happen," finished Skuld. Urd moved forward, and in a language that only he understood, wrote ancient runes into the sand. It rippled, and a hazy picture began to play, the sound muted.

_"I know now, without a doubt, that Kingdom Hearts…is LIGHT!" A fourteen-year-old Sora pointed his Kingdom Key at the stained glass doors, and they flew open, bathing everything in brilliant light. The man in front of him, his long silver mane trailing out behind him shielded his eyes and disappeared into the light._

"Such is the power of the boy's heart," Urd said, wiping away the image. "He is truly worthy of the title Keyblade Master."

"Now I will show you the present." Verdandi now stepped forward, and, in a different language, spoke, the air in front of her solidifying into clouds, and a gray picture showed.

_"Sora, why are you so moody all of a sudden?" a light-haired man joked, jostling the man next to him. The darker-haired man smiled weakly, and as his friend turned around to speak to the red-haired woman next to him, he grimaced._

"Such is the boy now," Verdandi whispered. Winter was open-mouthed and Xenos and Hotaru looked stunned.

"Are you sure this is the present," Xenos finally asked. Verdandi, a bit annoyed by the question nodded.

"Time moves differently here then it does in the outside worlds," she explained.

"Oh," Winter said breathlessly, closing her mouth.

"And here is the future," Skuld said, stepping forward. He said nothing, nor did he write anything. Instead, he simply clapped his hands together, and when he opened them, a small circular picture played itself out.

_"Firagun!" Sora roared, a wall of fire exploding from his Keyblade._

"And that is all you will see," Skuld said, bringing his hands back together. "It is dangerous for you to see too much." Xenos pulled a face at him as he walked away, but had to swallow it as all three of the Elders turned back around.

"To understand you enemy," they said at once. "You will need to understand more than we can tell you. You will need to learn of Xehanort."

"Who?" Winter asked, and at the same time, Hotaru exclaimed,

"Xehanort!"

"Yes, Xehanort," Urd confirmed, breaking the chain of Elders and placing a comforting hand on Hotaru's shoulder.

"Xehanort is of great importance to your journey," Skuld broke in. "But not as a person. You will need something else of his. Something that he has lost and will never find." Xenos raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

"You will need the memories of Xehanort," Verdandi broke in. "They have been destroyed and scattered, and you will need to find the pieces. It will not be easy. You may find them, and not know you have found them at the same time."

"This is getting very confusing," Winter mumbled, and earned another reproving glare from Hotaru.

"We hope you succeed in your mission," the three elders said at once, disappearing into the sand. Winter jumped back.

"Creepy!"

"And one thought more." Their voices rose up from the ground. "Two of you will disappear, and one will never return.

"Just go," Xenos said harshly to his companions, grabbing the shaken Winter's arm.

"You don't really think…" Winter trailed off.

"They're just trying to scare you," Xenos said gruffly, propelling her forward. "No one's going to die."

------------

Sora sat on his bed, waiting for sleep that didn't want to come.

"Problems?" the mini-Sora asked cheerfully.

"Shut up," Sora mumbled, turning over.

"Birth by sleep, Sora. Birth by sleep…"

------------

And we finish. Hint, hint! Foreshadowing! And this takes care of some of the stuff from the trailer. Go watch it!

Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld – Technically, they are three goddesses, but I didn't want to make them all women. As in the story, they respectively control past, present, and future. I thought it was pretty fun to use.

Read and Review!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Yami-396

I'm shocked for two reasons: A) I had no idea this story would be so popular after only two chapters and B) My computer is being super-retarded, and not delivering my E-mail to me. I had no idea I had gotten two more reviews until I checked my stats this morning.

Chapter 3 is dedicated to WolfishSerenity, Random-anom. person, Anonymous Phantom Writer, and kiyoshi-wheeler, in no particular order.

Warning! – Major spoilers ahead. If you haven't played KH2 yet, and still want to be surprised, skip over Riku's bathroom scene. (That sounds so wrong…)

Disclaimer – I own Hotaru, Xenos, Winter, anybody else not recognized or specifically from any other world, and the plot. I do not own Kingdom Hearts, KH: COM, or KH2. Steal and die.

------------

_He was in the Secret Place, but he did not remember how he got there, or why he was there. A candle sat in his hand, no holder, just a candle with his white knuckles gripping it tightly. He was waiting, waiting for whatever it was he was waiting for. There was rustling noise, and he stood up, holding the candle away from him so its weak halo of light shone in on the path that connected here with there. Somebody's shadow was coming._

_"Don't come further," he commanded, brandishing the candle. The shadow laughed._

_"Do you think you can stop me?" it hissed, its voice distorted, and its breath foul._

_"I will not allow you to," he said, unrelenting._

_"What has been set in motion cannot be stopped," the shadow said, growing larger, its blackness blotting everything out except for the glowing candle, to which he held on tightly despite the hot wax that melded his fingers to it. "You will fall like so many others have fallen, fall into the darkness from which you cannot escape. There are no such things as happy endings for those who consort with the Keyblade and its master."_

_ "You are wrong!" he shouted, but the shadow only laughed again and came closer. And still, the darkness devoured everything, until all he could see was the candle glowing dimly and the darkness surrounding it. "You are wrong," he whispered again._

_And the shadow just laughed and blew out the candle._

Riku screamed and scrambled out of bed, the sheets twisting themselves around his legs, and he thought they were tendrils of the shadow come to devour him through his dreams. He fell to the floor, and the sheets followed him, and then he knew they were sheets and not the shadow, and he calmed down enough to disentangle his legs and stood up weakly.

The dream had felt so real, too real for Riku's comfort. His fingers ached as he flexed them, the sweat pouring down his back like icy rivers.

And the light-consuming darkness…

"It was only a dream," he growled, slamming his fist into the wall. "Just a dream." And yet, the darkness was still there, hidden in the corners, congealing as it waited for Riku to close his eyes, waiting for Riku to let his guard down, and then it would absorb him, and he would be falling back into the darkness, back into the numbness, just falling, falling, falling…

Snarling, Riku fumbled for the light switch and flicked it on with more than necessary strength, harsh white light flooding the room, driving back his past for the time being. Clumsily, like a drunken man, he walked to the bathroom, turning on all the lights as he went, and leaned on the sink for support as he gasped for breath, keeping one hand on it like it was an anchor while the other fished around the medicine cabinet for the secret bottle hidden far back behind the many tubes sunburn cream.

He closed the door and Ansem stared back at him through the mirror.

Riku shrieked and threw himself from the face in the mirror, the bottle flying from his hand, and crashed to the floor, the sleeping pills scattering over the tiled surface, clattering into the places were the shadows hid.

"Hello, Riku," the mirror said. "It has been such a while since I last spoke to you."

"You're dead," Riku whispered, his hands grasping his hair, tearing it from the roots. "You died."

"But my memories live on," Ansem replied.

No, not Ansem. Ansem had died, the King told him so, and the King does not lie. Ansem had been DiZ, the man wrapped in red, the man who had tried to help them. No, this reflection was of someone else. It was…

"Xehanort!" Riku yelled, and the mirror laughed.

"Did you really think you could escape me?" Xehanort asked, his orange eyes burning into Riku's. "Did you truly believe that you had been saved?"

"You're not real," Riku whispered, clutching his ears. "You're not real, you're not real…"

"Remember my report, Riku," Xehanort told him, and then laughed at the confusion in Riku's eyes. "The boy did not tell you of them? Let me tell you a little secret. There are two legends of the Keyblade Master. One said he saved the world. In the other, he destroyed it. There will be no second chances this time, my puppet. The worlds will fall to darkness, one by one, consumed, never again to return to the light, never-"

The sound of shattering glass and the welcome blossom of pain stopped Xehanort's rant as Riku drove his fist into the mirror.

"Just die!" Riku screamed, dropping to his knees, cradling his bloody and broken hand to his chest, watching the small streams of blood course down his wrist and onto his shirt and the floor. And then he heard it. In the stillness of the night, there was the unmistakable swish of an oar cutting through water.

"The boy goes to fulfill the prophecy," the shards hissed, and Riku stared at them before he jumped up, drops of blood spraying around him, and hurtled through his home, not even registering the lighted candle he grabbed as he barreled out the door and into the night.

Winded and tired, he pushed on, holding the candle ahead of him, pursing the shadow down the well-trodden path that led to the Secret Place. The small light made the shadow of the rocks curve, and to Riku, they looked like teeth, teeth of a predator stalking its prey.

Still he trudged on, following the moving shadow. He followed it until it stopped all the way in back of the cave. And then it ceased to be a shadow, and Riku nearly dropped the candle.

"Hey, Riku!" Sora said brightly, and Riku was almost fooled into believing it was his friend, but one look at the man's eyes, dark and hooded, convinced him otherwise.

"What are you doing?" Riku asked him, clutching the candle.

"I'm going to get my Keyblade," Sora answered, laughing. It bounced off the walls of the cave and ten Sora's joined in as a chorus. "Do you want to come?"

"You're crazy!" Riku shouted, and his accusation joined the fading chorus of laughter.

"But you always wanted to see other worlds," Sora said, his entire demeanor changing. His voice became slick and deep, and his eyes lost their hooded look, but remained the dark blue of a stormy ocean. "Have you changed that much?"

"I won't let you," Riku growled, and his hands inadvertently twitched. The flame flickered.

"Do you think you can fight darkness with that candle?" the Sora-like thing in front of him asked. "Do you think you can save yourself? You cannot stop me."

The hot wax oozed over Riku's fingers and he laughed and let the candle tumble to the ground.

Sora reached over to the door, and the Keyhole glowed and grew bigger, and then Sora was reaching into it, and the cave began to shake.

Rocks fell, and still Riku laughed as the candle rolled away from him.

From the darkness of the Keyhole, Sora pulled a small light, none bigger than the flame of the dying candle. He cradled it in his hands, crooned to it, and held it to his heart.

The candle burnt out as a rock fell on it, and Riku laughed harder.

"My Keyblade is not here," Sora said stonily, and the little light he cradled to his chest flickered. "This world is useless. Let me through to the next!" The door that was never supposed to be opened was blasted away, and darkness seeped out. Sora looked at the small dying light one last time, and with tears streaming down his face for reasons he knew not, he crushed it, and it collapsed.

And then Sora was gone, melting into the darkness, and Riku laughed.

Riku laughed as the darkness swallowed the cave, and spread, fingers of it spewing out of the entrance to the cave, ready to devour more light.

And he laughed as he was falling, falling, falling into the darkness, as it curled around him, and then it was inside him, and then the laughter died.

------------

Hotaru woke bathed in tears.

"No," she whispered, letting the tears run freely down her face. "No." Numb with pain, she reached into the darkness of her heart and traced her link to the everlasting blackness, feeling for Riku's. It was there for an instant, and she clung to it, but the blackness pulsed, and the link was gone.

The tears flowed harder and she sobbed, and when her roommate woke up and fled in panic, she didn't stop, even when Xenos and Winter came running, sleepy-eyed and disheveled, she couldn't bring herself to stop mourning the life that had been twisted so cruelly, and tormented for so long, the life that had ended all too soon. Winter tried to comfort her, and went as far as to put her arms around the weeping woman, but Xenos sat to the side and watched as she shook off the younger girl, and wiped her face with her nightshirt.

"Are you okay now?" he asked softly, and Hotaru nodded, her cool outer shell closing over her, her emotions tucked away in the forgotten corner of her mind.

"Do you want to tell us what happened?" Winter asked. "You don't have to…"

"Yes I do," Hotaru snapped. "It's valuable information." She paused, and pushing the down the knot in her throat, she continued, telling them of her dream. Xenos and Winter listened intently, both of them hardly breathing, their faces drawn tight. When she was finished, Winter stood up and opened the door with shaking hands, letting the lighting from the hall spill into the room.

"So he's using that world as his portal," Xenos said, his voice free of any emotion. Hotaru disagreed.

"I don't think he's using it for that," she said. "I believe he used it to forge pathways between the worlds. With the door to that world forced open, he broke the barriers that kept the worlds separated."

"And by doing that," Winter broke in. "He recreated the network of paths."

"All to find that one damn Keyblade," Xenos growled. "Get ready. We're leaving."

"At night?" Winter asked, but Xenos was already gone.

------------

Kairi sat huddled in her bed, watching the darkness slip under her door. It slithered across the floor and under her bed, up the walls, and across the ceiling. In fright, she began to sing, a nameless old fishermen's tune about the sea, her voice quavering.

Then it was only Kairi and the darkness that stretched endlessly in all directions left. The darkness pulsed, and the song ceased to be.

------------

"You're leaving us?" Aki asked, her eyes wide and unblinking. Winter nodded distractedly as she threw off her nightshirt and slipped on the first presentable outfit she could find. "Where are you going?"

"Me, Xenos, and Hotaru are going exploring for a bit," Winter answered, throwing on her armor.

"Will you come back?" Remembering the warning of the Elders, Winter paused, and gathered the little girl in her arms, holding back the tears the little girl shed for her.

"Yes," she whispered. "I promise I'll come back."

------------

It was more painful than Sora would have thought, traveling through Gummi Space without a ship. It felt as if his skin was slowly being peeled off by dozens of little hooks, and the flashing lights that surrounded him made his head pound. But the little voice in the back of head demanded he keep moving, and so he pressed forth, trying to ignore the constant pressure that pulled him back.

------------

"Take care," Hotaru said to her roommate before turning her back to leave. "Goodbye."

"Don't say goodbye," Aella murmured sleepily. "Goodbye means you'll never come back." Hotaru looked at her.

"What would you rather I say?" she asked.

"Goodnight, Hotaru," was Aella's answer. Hotaru stopped at the door, and before closing it, she said,

"Goodnight."

------------

Screaming in pain, Sora tried to force his way through the barrier that protected the world in front of him. He did not know what world it was, nor did he care as long as the pain stopped and he could breathe again. Blood fell in his eyes, but he didn't have the strength to blink it away. Every pore in his body felt as if it were weeping blood, all his nerves screaming pain, and yet the voice still demanded he moved forward.

He moved one foot an inch in front of him.

The pressure reached its climax, and Sora screamed louder, his throat raw and broken, and the hooks dug deeper still, and Sora was sure that chunks of flesh were being stripped away, and then it was over, and Sora fell into the welcome bliss of unconsciousness.

------------

Silently and deadly, Xenos drove his Keyblade through the heart of an unsuspecting Spiraler. Snorting in rage, he jerked it back out, ignoring the gush of blood, and attacked it again, though the Chaser was already more than half-dead, and it simply lay on the sand and waited for Xenos to be done with it.

But Xenos was too angry to think rationally, and even after the Spiraler was long dead, and both he and the sand were covered in sticky blood, he kept hacking at it until all that remained was a bloodstain on the sand. He fell to his knees, and cursed Sora, tears cleaning a path down his gory face.

------------

As a rule, no one mentioned anything of the previous night. Hotaru had no mocks for the openly disheartened Winter, and Xenos said nothing about Hotaru's red and puffy eyes, and though Winter knew of the blood-spots in the cracks of Xenos's armor, she made no move to fuss over them.

An air of depression had settled over them as they trekked across the hot desert, always heading for the horizon, searching for the Graveyard of Keyblades. Few had known of their departure in the night, but those that did know were trusted with the information to tell the rest. Xenos had turned around once to gaze at the place he had called home for eleven years, but Winter had seized his head and forced it frontward again.

"Don't ever look back on the place you leave," she said grimly.

"Why?" Xenos asked, massaging the portion of his neck Winter had squeezed.

"It's an old superstition," Hotaru intervened. "They say if you look back at the place you leave from, you will never return there again." Xenos snorted.

"Don't tell me you believe that," he said, grinning cockily at the two girls.

"I don't," Hotaru said with an air of superiority. "And put your helmet on. You'll get sun poisoning if you don't.

"Oh, is Hotaru worried about me?"

"Perhaps sun poisoning will do you well."

They returned to melancholy silence and trudged on.

"The horizon just seems to move farther and farther away," Winter commented later, trying to make small talk, but Xenos just nodded, and Hotaru blatantly ignored her. Winter rolled her eyes, and allowed the shuffling of their boots to be the only noise in the quiet desert.

True to Hotaru's prediction, after two days of traveling, Xenos's face was indeed sunburned to a dark painful red, and a new annoyance made itself known. As they were walking over a particularly large dune, Winter's boot fell through the crusty sand at the top, and out of the resulting hole climbed several large scorpion-like Chasers, sandy-colored and black in appearance, waving their elongated stingers threateningly.

"A nest of Scorpionidas, huh?" Winter said, her eyes closed.

Gnashing their teeth, the Scorpionidas scuttled towards her. Though they were as tall as Xenos, Winter was not the least bit frightened, and still kept her eyes shut.

"You want to take care of them?" Hotaru asked her, stepping out of the way.

"With pleasure," Winter replied.

The Scorpionidas saw only a young girl apparently rooted to the sand in fear, and they believed they had found another hapless wanderer to make a meal out of. They did not see the small twitch of her hands at her side, nor did they see the flash of light behind her back as she summoned her Keyblade. Moving quickly, the Scorpionidas spread out in an attack pattern, creating a circle of clicking limbs and waving stingers around Winter. The largest one, most likely the leader attacked first, scuttling at her from behind, its stinger arched over its head, poised to impale her. Winter opened her eyes.

The stinger struck empty air, and, confused, the Scorpionida scuttled sideways, turning its body around to look in all directions. And on its stinger, several feet in the air, Winter stood, grinning, twirling her Keyblade with her fingers. The other Chasers noticed her there before their leader did, and they roared out a warning. Clicking its pincers, the lead Chaser thrashed about, and Winter, using the movement as leverage, flipped off its stinger, throwing her Keyblade mid-flip.

"Tornado Whirl!" she shouted, and her Keyblade, sharpened to perfection, spiraled through the air, neatly decapitating the closest of the Chasers. The remaining few stunned by the unexpected death of their comrades, stood and gaped stupidly at her before they made a dash back to their nest, the air full of panicked clicking and snapping. Winter's Keyblade circled around, and whistling through the air, it cut through the last of the Scorpionidas. Winter landed, and as her Keyblade made one final arc, she caught it by its handle, and turned back to her friends, smiling.

"Not bad, right?" she asked, laughter dancing in her eyes as she pulled off her helmet, hair flying out to frame her face. Xenos rubbed his chin in mock thoughtfulness.

"I'll give you an eight out of ten because you landed with your feet skewed."

------------

Cold. He felt very cold. But feeling cold meant that he was alive, and that was good. Sora stood up and dusted off the light covering of snow on his back and that clung to his hair. A quick once-over of his body determined that he had not in fact been damaged by his flight through Gummi space and his flesh was still very much intact. In fact, massive headache aside, he had never felt better. Stretching, he surveyed the world he landed in.

A blanket of white stretched out before him, covering everything from rocks to trees, and the rapidly falling snow had already filled the depression his body made when he broke the barrier. To his right, there was a forest, looking ethereal against the gray sky and the falling white. On all his other sides, the ground he was standing on ended in a steep sudden drop. Sora leaned over the ledge cautiously, and determined that it was about a two hundred-foot drop to the village below. Grey and white monolithic mountains rose on the other side of the valley, protecting it from the harsher winds that whipped Sora's hair into a frenzy, and from some of the miniscule houses he saw, steam rose from chimneys, wafting in the air.

_"Bet they have great food,"_ he thought, suddenly very aware that he was starving.

"Why don't you go and see?" the mini-Sora prompted.

"Because it's a huge drop and I can't fly."

"But you can glide." Point taken, he prepared to jump, but a movement from the forest stopped him, and he tensed.

It was only a deer, coming to investigate what the strange new smell from the cliff was. Blue eyes locked with large brown ones, and the deer's ears went back. There was something strange about the human before it, and it wasn't because of its foreign scent. There was something wrong, something the deer did not understand, but its instincts did, and it was visible in the human's eyes. Sora held out his hand, and the deer bolted, all its instincts telling it to run, that the human was dangerous, and thankfully, it wasn't chased. Sora simply shrugged, and took a running leap off the cliff.

It had been a long time since Sora had used his Glide Ability; back at the Destiny Islands, he had found out quickly that those who hadn't known of his adventures didn't greatly appreciate it. But gliding through the cold air, letting himself be buffeted about by the currents, he wondered why he gave it up. Was it because of Kairi?

Kairi.

The name struck something in his heart, and the darkness retreated a bit, and Sora wondered how she was doing back on the islands. But it was of no matter. Once he found his Keyblade, he would go back to her, and life would resume.

Sora decided he had enough playing in the air, and he began to descend, causing quite a stir amongst the people of the village below him.

A child happened to look up in the sky, and tugging on her mother's apron, she asked, "Mama, what is that in the sky?" Her mother looked up to placate her daughter, and immediately dropped her bundle of grain with a scream. The grain spilled into the snow, and the child knelt down to pick it up. "What's the matter, Mama?" she asked, her gloved hands full of wet grain. Her mother didn't answer, but shoved the girl into the nearest house; it didn't matter whose, life had made all of them trust one another, and murder and kidnapping were unheard of.

"The god is descending!" Aina cried, running through the street. "The god has come down at last!" As she shouted, she pointed to the sky, and soon, a large group of people had gathered at the spot were Sora was near landing, trailed closely by the village priest. He pushed his way through the mass, his crooked staff aiding him in this.

"Bow!" he commanded, his voice gruff with age and years of inhaling cold air. The villagers obeyed, and they sank to their knees in the deep snow, their foreheads pressed deeply on their arms. As for Sora, he had no clue what had just happened.

When he touched down and observed the throng of people bowing, he looked behind him to see if he had interrupted some sort of ceremony. After a quick search in all directions, and finding nothing, he pointed to himself and asked incredulously, "Me?"

"Behold!" someone shouted. "He speaks!"

"What?" Sora asked, utterly confused.

"Oh, Exalted One! You're presence is a blessing!" Aina cried, and moved forward and latched on to Sora's shorts.

"Gah! Get off!" He shook his leg, but Aina was strong, and she wouldn't let go. "Who are you people?"

"We are the people of Icy Creek," the priest supplied. "And we bid you welcome, Exalted One." He bowed again, and in embarrassment, Sora rubbed the back of head and smiled goofily, unsure what to do next.

"Look at his movement! We must copy or fear his wrath!" a man yelled, and in a flurry of movement, everyone in the area stood and mimicked Sora's posture. "It must be some sort of godly greeting!"

"Please, don't do that," Sora said, nearly crying. "I think you have the wrong guy here."

"No, no, we are not mistaken," the priest said. "The legends say that the god will one day descend from the heavens above to bless our pitiful village with his presence. You, Exalted One, already have. Furthermore, your dressing is fit for a god!" He motioned to Sora's bright T-shirt and shorts, which did look rich and out of place next to the other villager's plain dresses and smocks. "Please, Exalted One, let us bring you to the shrine. We shall prepare a banquet!" At the mention of banquet, Sora perked up, and decided that he would play the part of their god for a little, and then leave.

"What about your Keyblade?" the mini-Sora hissed.

"Oh, shut up," Sora admonished it. "I'm hungry."

"Chose, Sora. Keyblade or food."

"Food."

------------

The Scorpionidas provided a welcome distraction for the trio, and soon they fell into their usual routine of killing Chasers and exchanging banter with one another. It was during one such lull in action, as Winter and Xenos argued about different armor styles, that the group came upon a Spiraler attacking a small caravan. Responding immediately, they pulled out their Keyblades and readied for attack, but stopped short as several hooked ropes flew from the caravan and sunk into the Chaser. The ropes were pulled, and the Chaser fell, unconscious, and several people climbed out and began cutting bits of the armor off the Spiraler.

"Need any help?" Winter called, despite Hotaru and Xenos's frantic attempts to pull her behind a large rock.

"No, we're fine!" a woman called back, waving them over. She pulled glossy brown hair from her face and assessed the three intruders. From their antics, they seemed relatively harmless, and not to mention rather interesting. "Would you like a ride back to the city?"

"A city?" Xenos asked, brightening. "Count me in!"

The city turned out to be a dozen buildings cut out of a large rock formation, with interlocking streets. Xenos was dejected again, and Winter had to drag him out of the caravan under the pretenses that they may find out some information if they stayed.

"There's a lovely inn down that way, if you wish to spend the night," the woman, who they found out to be named Kallisto, said. Xenos was about to say something, probably to the negative affect, but Hotaru cut him off.

"I suppose we have nothing to fear from Chaser attacks," she said, stepping on Xenos's foot. He yelped and jumped backwards.

"Yeah, with the way you guys kill them, we'll finally have some free time!" Winter added cheerfully, and Kallisto laughed.

"Oh, we don't kill the Chasers," she explained. "We only borrow from them."

"You didn't kill that Spiraler earlier?" Xenos asked, still holding his foot, hopping on the other in a desperate dance to stay balanced and avoid the pull of gravity. Kallisto suppressed a giggle.

"No, we only take a bit of their armor. They keep this city thriving, you know."

"And how, may I ask, do they do that?" Hotaru asked, one eyebrow in danger of disappearing in her hairline. Kallisto's smile disappeared, and she decided she didn't like her very much.

"Do you know the history of the Chasers?" she asked, biting back a sharp retort for the haughty but beautiful woman before her. The three friends shook their heads, and Kallisto sighed, beckoning them inside the welcome coolness of one of the buildings. "I suppose you simply let your people kill them without thought."

"Yes, we do," Xenos said sharply. "They're a nuisance to our existence."

"But not to ours," Kallisto replied just as sharply. "The Chasers originated in these parts first, and then spread out. They are essential to this city and its people. Have you seen our metals?"

"No, we've never been here," Winter said, trying to keep on friendly terms with her. Kallisto rewarded her with a smile, and handed her a metal ornament. Shaped like a dog, it was silvery with streaks of gold in it, and the designs etched into its surface were intricate and detailed. "It's beautiful."

"Yes, our metal-works are prized, and sell for quite a bit. The main ingredient is Chaser armor." Winter nearly dropped it. "The term 'chaser' means 'one who decorates metal by engraving or embossing.' My people used to be known as the Chasers, but as those monsters you see now spread, others got confused, and began referring to them as Chasers. After a while, it stuck."

"That makes sense," Xenos said after a moment's pause.

"In fact, there is a legend that the very first Keyblades came from the Chasers. The people, not the monsters," she added quickly, and Winter kicked Xenos under the table.

"Stop kicking me," he whispered. "I get it."

"Do you think this could be one of Xehanort's memories?" Hotaru asked, even though it pained her to say that name. Wisps of memories floated the barrier.

"It could be," Xenos answered. "I guess it's not supposed to jump out at us and scream 'Look at me! I'm a memory of a dead guy!' right?" Winter giggled, and Hotaru looked at him disapprovingly.

"This is serious!"

"We'll poke around some more, and see what we can come up with."

"I wonder they'll polish my Keyblade?"

"We don't have time for that! And don't let on that you wield a Keyblade!"

"We can polish anything, as long as you pay for it," Kallisto broke in, having heard the word polish, and the three jumped, having forgotten she was there.

"How much to polish this?" Winter asked, pointing to Xenos's armor. With a keen eye, Kallisto examined the dingy metal he wore.

It was dirty and gritty with sand, and fingerprints had long tarnished its once-gleaming surface, and with surprise and a hint of fear, she saw caked blood in the veins of the armor. Perhaps she had been wrong about the three being relatively harmless. She would watch them, but for now, she would play along. Clicking her tongue, Kallisto handed it back. "With all the damage you've done to it, I'd say about three hundred in gold."

"What!" Xenos yelled. "Don't even think about it Winter!" But Winter had that gleam in her eyes, and the sixteen-year-old was not to be deterred.

"We don't have any gold, but we're willing to do some work to pay for it."

Hotaru and Xenos groaned.

------------

Updated 7/18/06 for some plot holes. The last part's been changed to make more sense.

And that takes care of the Chaser thing of legends.

Kallisto – Greek for 'most beautiful.'

Aina – Finnish for 'the only one.'

Scorpionidas – Take away the 's' and you have the order in which the scorpion belongs.

Aki – Japanese for 'autumn.'

Aella – Greek for 'whirlwind.'

Have a safe and happy July 4th for all of you who celebrate it, and Read and Review!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Yami-396

I am SO sorry about the long wait for this, but I have an excuse this time. You see, as a peace offering, a friend found me new wallpaper for my computer, and I've been caught up in staring at Reno's tongue…I think I said a little too much. Let's just go on with the story, okay?

Dedicated to those who read and reviewed on Mediaminer. See that Fanfiction? I spare no love for you.

Disclaimer – I own everybody except for the obvious and I own the plot. Steal and face the wrath of the fangirl. KH, KH: COM, and KH2 are property of Tetsuya Nomura, who is being selfish an not giving us KH: Keyblade Wars until at least four years from now, when I'll be too old to get away with buying Disney games at Best Buy.

------------

It was so tantalizing to simply exert control on the boy and search this pathetic slip of a world for its Keyhole while the boy dreamed about his islands and dying laughs, but the darkness that enveloped Sora's heart reigned its base instinct and waited a while longer. It knew, from millennia's of experience, if it pushed too hard, the boy would break, and the darkness would have to find a new host. But still, it was so very frustrating to have the power to eradicate without cause and not be able to fully utilize it until the boy was asleep.

Birth by sleep, was that what the embodiment said? The darkness giggled, reaching out with sinewy fingers to further capture his heart in its perverted lover's embrace, more and more of the blackness seeping into the wound caused by corruption, and spreading throughout the boy's being. The embodiment was ingenious, and highly successful for a first attempt. The darkness knew, even with the seeds of corruption already sowed, that he would never give himself away freely to the everlasting blackness, as the other had. No, this one had a ridiculously high set of morals that would never allow such primal instincts to rule his body, even though the darkness had gained control for the few minutes the boy had let his guard down to relish his first taste of hunger.

At least, the boy would not let such things happen willingly. But if he were to be manipulated in such a way that the slow rotting away of his heart seemed natural, as if it were only right that he bore that which was no longer his to control, then the boy would be all too willing, thinking it was part of some grand scheme willed to him.

Hence the embodiment: Darkness, but in a savvier form.

The darkness had toyed with the idea of making the embodiment in the form of the girl that sometimes preoccupied the boy's thoughts, but in the end, the boy might have found that suspicious and spoken of it to her, unlike the other would, always so full of secrets.

The darkness sighed. How that one had tasted so good, how easy it had been to find the small spark of jealousy and nurture it until it had grown into a raging inferno, a drive consuming everything but the single thought of possessing that wretched girl. And how pleasurable it had been to taste him again, to completely engulf his spirit, and feel the unrelenting pulse of the blackness ebb his life force away.

Sora slept on, dreaming of fading fishermen's tunes, and the darkness, content in its web of manipulation, allowed him one more night of peace.

------------

Kallisto eyed the three sets of armor in front of her in distaste. Knowing hands poked and prodded the metal plates, violating their tender undersides, fingers stopping sometimes to trace a hole in the worn fabric below. She knew, simply by the feel, that it was Estilo Viejo Armadura she was looking at.

Developed centuries ago by Kallisto's people, Estilo Viejo Armadura was nothing more than dozens of metal plates sewn onto an under layer of thick fabric. Due to its immense resilience to attacks, it was coveted by the traveling warriors that sometimes passed the small metalworking city. As its popularity grew, however, blacksmiths, and other competitors began to make their own variations of the armor. These copies though, lacked the fundamental ingredient that made it so strong: Extract from the monsters that roamed the world.

This key component, named the Chaser Ingredient by some, needed to be compensated in order to create an equivalent to the Estilo Viejo Armadura. But because very few were willing to risk their lives hunting the monsters known as Chasers by this time, more metal was used in its place. But metal was expensive, and within a few years, producers began to make the metal plates thinner and thinner to save time and gold. Soon, the once sought after armor was only a few sheets of flimsy metal sewn loosely onto an inexpensive piece of fabric.

The helmets were newer than the armor, and Kallisto frowned, picking one up. Though more effective than the armor, the helmet was still cheaply made of some light metal, and if her eyes were not mistaken, there was a hand-repaired dent in the side.

_"How they all manage to stay alive in these things is beyond me,"_ she thought, setting the helmet down. She looked pityingly at the distressed armor, all the hairline cracks speaking out to her, begging her to save them. _"This is something you hang on the wall and tell stories about. You don't fight in this armor anymore."_ She tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the table, wondering how she would salvage the remains of the once-proud armor. _"Perhaps if I glaze it with Chaser Oil, it will last another two years. Then again, with the way Xenos scuffles around in it, it may only last two more weeks."_ Her eyes narrowed at the thought of Xenos and his friends.

When she had first seen them in the desert, she hadn't been too worried. Now, though, she could see that they were hiding something, from the way they whispered, to the shadowed secrets in the woman's, Hotaru, eyes. Kallisto shivered. Exotic eyes, not of this world, not human, deadly yet beautiful. She would watch them carefully, pretend to play along with their games, and if they were dangerous, she would not hesitate to defend her home.

Shaking those thoughts from her head, she set down the armor she had been gripping on the side of the table, and went to the supply closet, shuffling around jars of gold dust and varnishes, hoping that there was at least one jar of Chaser Oil left.

And when she found it, she nearly dropped it when she heard the crash behind her. She automatically tensed, willing the set of armor she had placed on the edge of the table to still be there and not in a broken pile on the floor. Dimly, she was aware of another roaring, this one peculiarly loud, and in a minute of absolute horror, she thought all the sets of armor were falling. But the roaring stayed longer than it should have taken for the armor to fall, and she realized it was the sound that all the blood rushing from her face to pool in her stomach made. Feeling almost queasy, she turned.

Xenos's armor lay in a heap on the floor, metal plates askew in their stitches. Taking a deep breath, Kallisto leaned down and picked it tentatively up, holding it away from her body. The metal plates held for a minute, and then, one by one, they fell to her feet in a cacophony of howls. She whimpered.

"Not good!"

------------

It was cool in the library, and for that, Winter was grateful. However, apparently to gain coolness, decent lighting had to be sacrificed, and for that, Winter was very unpleased. Even in good light, Winter knew she would have had problems trying to decipher the small and flowing handwriting that cataloged each book and scroll, and with the only light in the library coming from small oil lamps hung artfully from the ceiling, Winter felt the beginnings of a very strong headache behind her eyes as she squinted at the author's name for a rather boring piece of text about…she squinted harder…squiggles. She sighed, and tossed the book uncaringly into a messy pile at her side.

"Bloody scrolls," she said, picking up one extremely mildewed scroll and promptly throwing it in the discard pile. She had picked up that term a few hours earlier when she had still cared about what she was sorting, and could still find books that were in a language is understood, and not just meaningless squiggles. "Bloody books!" Another book sailed into the discard pile, the cover half-eaten away by mold.

The few books that she could read were far from interesting; she had no interest in learning the laws of a city she was going to spend one night in, leave, and then forget about it. The scrolls, on the other hand, were less mundane, and quite a few of them looked as if they were old fairy tales and fables. Winter would have gladly read those if they hadn't been written in those damnable squiggles.

_"This is really boring,"_ she thought, flipping through another large book absentmindedly, letting her thoughts wander to Hotaru and Xenos. She felt a twinge of jealousy that the two were allowed to work together and she was not there, and for the fact that they were able to work outside while she was trapped in a dimly lit library with only moldy books for company. Sighing in defeat, she focused her attention on the book she was holding. Maybe she would read a little about the rules of this city, just to alleviate some of the boredom.

"Squiggles!" she yelled, slamming the book on the table. "Who would write in squiggles!" And then, she noticed something.

True, there were lots of squiggles, but next to them were other markings, markings that Winter could only guess were from a different language. And next to those, words that she could read.

"A translator," she breathed, her eyes lighting up. Quickly, she leaned down and found one of the scrolls that had caught her interest earlier. With the enthusiasm of a child, she undid the leather straps and unrolled the scroll.

A grotesquely large spider fell on her lap.

Two brown eyes stared into eight black eyes.

The spider waved one leg at her.

Winter screamed, and it echoed throughout the silent room.

With a speed she didn't know she possessed, she divested herself of the tunic and threw it across the room, where it landed in a crumpled heap. The spider landed a few feet away, having fallen off the slippery material when Winter had whipped it over her head. Slightly shaken, it looked back at her, as if trying to understand why she had so rudely flung it away. Then it simply crawled away and slipped through on of the cracks in the rock.

Winter took a deep shuddering breath, trying to regain her composure.

"Is there something wrong?" Winter choked on the breath and froze, crouched on the floor. "Hello? Miss? Are you all right?" She looked to the open doorway, and cringed as she saw a shadow pass over the stone.

A distinctively _male_ shadow.

Winter looked to the tunic, a fair distance from where she was crouched, and then back to the door. Should she risk it, and make a break for the tunic? The shadow grew larger. She looked back to the table, where the dilapidated pile still towered, and then to the door again, horrified to see a foot appear on the stairs, followed by a knee, and then by a thigh. Glancing again at the table and then at the tunic, Winter decided.

Aulis stepped cautiously into the dimly lit room, watching for any sign of movement. The scream he had heard earlier frightened him badly, and he was sure it was not made by something of the living world.

"Is there anybody here?" he asked, eyeing the dilapidated pile of books and scrolls suspiciously. Did a banshee hide there, laying in wait for him to walk over and investigate? Would it drain him of his blood if he did? Or was it vampires that drain blood? Aulis couldn't remember; he had never been good with those kinds of things. He took another step away from the doorway.

"Yes! Can I help you?" Aulis yelped, and jumped back. Winter had shot up from behind the pile, small enough for it to cover her body, voice shrill with anxiety. Her hair was a wild mess, sticking up from its customary ponytail in all directions, her bangs falling into her eyes. The dim lights accentuated her high cheekbones, painting dark wells beneath them. Large eyes showed more white than brown, and her lips were pulled back in what was meant as a sheepish grin, but in the murky light, she looked more predatory than Xenos did when he was angry.

"It's a ghoul!" Aulis screeched, pointing a shaking finger at her, his knees giving out beneath him, and he fell to the floor with a bone jarring crash. Winter took this as an offence.

"What?" she snapped, her face souring, adding to the effect she had upon Aulis.

"Don't eat me!" he yelled, crawling on his hands and feet, reaching blindly for the door. He knew that library was haunted!

Winter watched him run up the stairs, her expression a mix of fury and amusement. Once she was sure he was gone and not coming back anytime soon, she stepped out from behind the pile and retrieved her tunic, pulling it over her head. She had to wonder, if it had been Hotaru in her place, would he still have yelled ghoul?

------------

"So, what are we supposed to do again?"

"Clean off the base of the obelus. Pay attention next time some one is talking to you."

Xenos didn't like housework much, and though many did not consider weeding out an obelus housework, Xenos classified it as such, and he looked at the ten-foot tall structure in mild annoyance.

"What's so important about the damn thing anyway?" he asked, placing his hand behind his head and swaggering up to it, rapping his knuckles against the weathered stone. "Rock, just like everything else in this place. If it's so important, why not make it out of metal or gold or something?"

Hotaru sighed, coming to stand next to him. "The obelus was a gift to a demigod. According to the legends, the earth gave birth to him, and to signify that, the obelus was built from rock."

"How do you know that?" he asked her incredulously.

"Kallisto explained it to us. If you hadn't been sighing the whole time, you would have heard her." That said, Hotaru turned and made her way to the opposite side of the obelus, ending their conversation. She pointed to the thick covering of vines that snaked up the obelus's sides, coming to rest at its triangular peak in a blaze of flowers, and said, "Weed."

And that was why, two hours later, Xenos, all hot and sweaty, was hanging on for dear life on top of the obelus, his bare toes curled around the stone while one hand was wrapped around the tip of the structure, and the other pulling the last of the vines off.

"Nasty little things," he said, looking at the oozing piece of greenery he held. "Are those suckers?" He tossed to the ground before following, landing on all fours. "Well, I'm done with my two sides! You can find me inside." Hotaru didn't answer, and he snuck a glance at her.

A persistent bit of root was vexing her; it was happy in the ground, and was not partial to leave it. Xenos watched, amused, as Hotaru leaned back on her heels, pulling with all her strength on the persistent root. She tugged it again, and this time, the root decided it didn't like its dirt home anymore and came free in a shower of rocks and soil. Hotaru gave a little cry and fell backwards, her feet flying up in the air. Xenos pressed his lips together to smother the laughter bubbling in his chest as he watched her sit back up, wearing her wounded dignity for all to see as she pursed her lips at the hole in the ground.

Even with a smear of dirt across one cheek, she was still lovely, and Xenos sighed inwardly, thinking about how unfair it was for such a hard life to be forced on her. She could have had so much more if she hadn't chanced upon this world. He shook his head, dispelling those unwanted thoughts from his mind, and turned to leave. And then he turned back to the obelus, looking at the sides he had just cleaned. There was something very wrong with them, and yet, he couldn't quite place his finger on it.

"H-Hotaru?" he called, leaning back to peer at her.

"What?" she huffed, standing up, wiping her hands on her tunic. He pointed to the obelus.

"Can you tell me what's wrong with this picture please?" She gave him the look she specifically reserved him, the 'I-think-Xenos-fell-on-his-head-one-too-many-times' look.

"What are you talking about?"

"Did you see me on top of the obelus, pulling vines from there?" Hotaru placed her hands on her hips.

"Yes, I did. Now stop being cryptic and be straight with me."

"I started from the bottom," Xenos said weakly, gesturing to the vines that reached halfway up the length of the obelus. "I pulled every vine off. And now they're back." Hotaru stared at him.

"You're imagining things," she told him at length, shaking her head. "Be serious Xenos. I don't want to be doing this either."

"But I am being serious," he whined, looking back at the vines. He blinked. They were wrapped around the tip again. "Hotaru!"

"Be quiet," she snapped, waving him off. If Xenos wanted to be an idiot, then so be it. She didn't have to stay out here baking in the sun any longer than she had to, and since she was done with her work, she could reap the rewards of it. She stopped to survey her efforts, and then did a double take, gaping at the vines that climbed the obelus. "What the hell!" she exclaimed, completely taken aback at the invasion of vines.

"See? I told you," Xenos said, standing beside her. Experimentally, he seized the growing vine and peeled it off. It took only three minutes for another vine to grow in its place. Hotaru and Xenos looked at each other in a mix of horror and awe.

"What do we do now?" Hotaru asked, passing a hand over her eyes.

"Work really, really, fast and hope we can outrun the vines," Xenos answered, cracking his knuckles. "If we can fight Chasers, we can defeat a bunch of puny vines."

Hotaru had never liked competition of any kind, preferring to cut down her opponents by wits instead of strength, but Xenos lived for them. He was a slight show-off, and liked to impress people with his strength and agility. So it fell on Hotaru's shoulders to keep the mob of people gathered around the obelus to watch Xenos seemingly desecrate one of their oldest monuments. There was a collective murmur through the crowd, and Hotaru glanced back at them, as if to say, 'Yeah, so what?' Under her icy gaze, the crowd thinned and soon dissipated.

"Are you done?" she asked, bored, picking on a fingernail. Xenos growled, and Hotaru looked up in slight alarm. The vines had won the competition, again winding up the structure and blooming in all their red glory. Xenos stood underneath them, seething. "I think you're fighting a losing battle, Xenos," she told him. He growled again.

"You're going down," he snarled, summoning his Keyblade.

"Xenos!" Hotaru warned, but he paid no mind to her.

"Stupid f-!" Hotaru raised her eyebrows at Xenos's language. "Plant from Hell! Die!" He punctuated every word with a swing of his Keyblade, bringing it down hard on the bush. "Try to beat that!" The bushes writhed beneath his fury, and in a matter of five minutes, he had destroyed them, leaves and oozing pieces of vines flying everywhere. Xenos stood in the thick of it, covered in plant juice, looking extremely proud of himself.

"I think you went a little overboard," Hotaru said dryly. Xenos shrugged.

"It got rid of the weeds, didn't it?" he said, grinning.

"Idiot," she muttered. "Did you do anything to the obelus in your frenzy?"

"I think I knocked some dirt or junk off," he replied, rubbing the stone with his hand. "It's not smooth anymore."

"Do you know how old that is!" Hotaru shrieked, shoving him aside to inspect the stone. "If you broke it…" She squinted at the rock. "Xenos? Come look at this."

Glaring at her from the ground, he asked, "Why?"

"Does this look like anything to you?" He stood up and looked to where she was pointing. He too squinted.

"It looks like squiggles," he said, looking at her strangely. For someone who was always acted so stoic, Hotaru being happy was a slightly scary thing. "Is this important somehow?"

"Paper," she said, her eyes distant. Xenos stared at her, mystified.

"Paper?" he echoed. Was she sick? Was she suffering from heatstroke of something?

"I need paper," she said again. "Stay here. I'll be right back." She bolted, and Xenos watched her, something akin to horror gracing his features.

------------

Translating was much more frustrating then Winter had been lead to believe, and she found that she did not have the patience required to do so. She stared glumly at the page in front of her, tapping her stick of charcoal against the stack of papers next to the book, wishing that Aulis would come back down.

He had come back about half an hour after he mistook Winter for a ghoul, dragging his sister with him.

"Look! You see!" When his sister made no reply, he too stuck his head in the doorway. He saw only a young girl, her hair tied neatly back, sitting at a table, dutifully jotting notes down happily. He turned to his sister. "But there really was a ghoul!"

"Idiot," she had snapped, slapping him on the head. "Does she look like a ghoul to you?"

Winter smiled absently at the memory, her charcoal tapping away.

"Paper!" someone trilled, and shocked Winter badly, causing her to fall off her seat.

"Huh?" she stated intelligently. "Hotaru?"

"Paper!" she trilled again, flaunting across the room. "I need paper!" Winter stared at her.

"Are you feeling well?" she asked, getting up from her chair. "You're acting…happy…"

"Paper!" Hotaru exclaimed, seizing Winter's stack, including the dozen or so unused charcoal sticks. With one final trill, she left the room. "Thank you!"

"Hey! Wait! Those are mine!" Winter yelled in typical teenaged possessiveness, and sprang to catch the prancing woman as she paraded out the doorway. Unfortunately, Hotaru had already begun to close the door by the time Winter reached it, and the door closed on her face, knocking her down. "Hotaru!"

------------

Xenos kicked a stray rock down the street, waiting for his slightly delusional partner to return. If Hotaru had worried him before when she was emotionless, he was now doubly worried that she was happy. He entertained the thought that she may have finally snapped, and wondered if by 'paper,' she had really meant 'knife.' Maybe he should summon his Keyblade again, just to be safe.

"I've got paper!" Hotaru's voice sang out from behind him, and he barely had any time to turn around before she nearly bowled him over. Was it him, or did he just hear her sing that she had found paper?

"Um, that's good," he said, taking the sheets she shook at him. "And why do we need paper?"

"For the obelus," she said, her voice losing the singsong tone. "I want to take a rubbing of it." Xenos frowned in confusion.

"A rubbing?"

"Like this." She scaled the obelus, and starting from its eastern most side, laid the paper flush against it, rubbing the charcoal stick over the paper. She leapt down and showed the impression of the squiggles to him. "Just follow me." He nodded. At least she wasn't singing anymore. "And don't forget to number your pages on the back!" Yes, she was back to normal. He joined her, lining his sheet with hers, and began to mimic her movements.

"And why are we doing this?" he asked.

"The structure was erected as an offering to a demigod."

"So?"

"So maybe this can tell us something about Cazador." Xenos now understood.

"You think this may be about Xehanort, don't you." Hotaru flinched slightly at the name, but she kept her voice calm and waver-free.

"Perhaps," she answered, and then kicked him in the head for good measure. "Keep working.

"I liked it better when you were singing."

------------

Kallisto worried her lip, hoping that the three would like their new armor. It had taken her the better part of the day just to think of the design, and then another hour or so to bring it to life. She was pleased with the result, but in the end, her opinion didn't matter. She simply prayed she would be forgiven for breaking Xenos's armor.

------------

Winter was still nursing her bruised nose when Hotaru finally returned to the library, Xenos close behind. He wrinkled his nose at the smell; a sort of combination of paper, mold, and wax.

"What did you do to your face?" he asked her, seeing the purple splotches around her eyes.

"Ask her," Winter snarled, gesturing to Hotaru. "She was the one who closed the door in my face." Hotaru gave no notice of hearing her.

"Is there anybody here that can translate this for us?" she asked, giving Winter the topmost page. Winter took one look at it before she exploded into a tirade.

"Squiggles! Do you know how tired I am of squiggles? I've been around squiggles all day long, and I'll be damned if I have to translate another damn page of damn squiggles!"

"You mean you have a translator?" Hotaru asked, her eyes lighting up. Xenos noticed, but Winter was too upset to.

"Here." She handed the older girl the heavy book, and Hotaru flipped through it, smiling. Xenos moved away, fearful for his health.

"Xenos, you take these pages, Winter, you take these, and I'll take the rest," she said, dividing up the stack of papers.

"Why?" Winter asked.

"We're going to translate!" The singsong voice was back. Xenos and Winter exchanged looks. "Let's get started!"

"Should I be worried?" Xenos whispered to Winter, taking a seat next to her. She shook her head.

"She likes puzzles," the young girl explained.

"So she always gets like this?"

"I've never seen her singing before, but, yeah, she can act fairly normal sometimes." A charcoal stick flew through the air and smacked Winter in the forehead. "What was that for?"

"You're not working!" Hotaru trilled, her charcoal stick flying across her page.

Hotaru was the first to translate her entire page, and she eagerly shared it with the others. Perplexed, the three read it twice, unseeing as to how the meaningless lines somehow connected to Xehanort and his memories. The page read:

_People will no longer sing._

_Call no longer to their friends._

_Themselves knowing it's the end._

_They know not when, they know not why._

_Are they the sacrifice?_

_Excellent beings for the altar._

_Metal, meddle, can I alter?_

It was obviously only a small piece of the puzzle, but even knowing that, the page seemed like a worthless bit of poem, not a memory of a man.

"That thing makes no sense at all," Xenos complained. "What's with that last line? That 'metal, meddle, can I alter' thing? Was whoever writing this trying to be cute?"

"Who's trying to be cute?" Kallisto asked from the doorway. She had come down to tell them their armor was ready, and she had already made up a script in her mind on how it was going to go, but Xenos's words had intrigued her. "And did you say 'metal, meddle, can I alter?'"

"You know this?" Winter asked, handing her the paper. Kallisto scanned the page briefly, and then nodded.

"Yes. It's part of an unnamed poem. It's one of the most famous in Cazador, written about the time the obelus was created." She walked to one of the shelves, and pulled out a dusty book, thumbing through it in a cloud of dust. "See?" Covering several pages was the compete poem.

_I am lost._

_Have I lived, but at what cost?_

_Crossed what should not be cross-ed._

_The barriers of right and wrong pass-ed._

_Boundaries lay to waste,_

_Of vile poison, it was laced._

_Worlds crumble to naught._

_And battles have yet to be fought._

_So is the fault of mine._

_Am I the sign?_

_Trapped in human flesh,_

_Here 'till I come to rest._

_Until the time has come,_

_I will find a way to undo what I've done._

_Find a way to resolve my sins._

_A sin, that wish, inside a sin._

_Way that is my own._

_Back to a past long ago sown._

_However it is, I will make sure_

_I return to this sandy shore._

_Am I forgotten; it should be so,_

_Not to be saved from the undertow._

_Worried, not I, who will never see_

_Much beyond my eyes so let it be,_

_As the worlds all fall to ruin,_

_This poem will float in whim._

_World after world, it will float away,_

_Is it strong enough to sway?_

_Paradise to desert, and desert to green?_

_Beyond the darkness of the sea._

_Imagination takes flight,_

_With darkness smothering the light._

_Sparkling grows dim,_

_Rivers flow no longer to the brim_

_And the sun will rise no more._

_A tribute to the darkness that soars._

_Variety will die,_

_Of darkness's sigh._

_Flora will bloom_

_To die so soon._

_Examine me not_

_And leave me to rot._

_Name me nothing_

_As I give you something._

_I have longed._

_Explored to be explored._

_I cannot live like this,_

_Chanced something might be amiss._

_Upon my life this task I take,_

_A small worry that is my mistake._

_Small worries grow larger._

_City in danger,_

_Of being consumed by darkness,_

_Chasers of lightness._

_The end is near._

_Name the drear_

_These soldiers of night bring._

_People will no longer sing,_

_Call no longer to their friends._

_Themselves knowing it's the end._

_They know not when, they know not why._

_Are they the sacrifice?_

_Excellent beings for the altar._

_Metal, meddle, can I alter?_

_Workers who die everyday,_

_But follow their paths to be on their way._

_Are we all doomed with the same fate?_

_Not feeling anything but hate._

_Very well, this will change._

_Bright light will destroy this cage._

_They will be free once more._

_Believe it to their very core._

_Me, myself, and I will fight_

_To restore all of light._

_Be afraid, be afraid,_

_A darkness raid, a darkness raid,_

_Denizen of darkness shall fall,_

_Of the light, it will stand tall._

_The battle is an age-old tale._

_Earth and Terra both have failed._

_And dark and light demand a price._

_Have always, never nice._

_Treated worse than dirt and soil._

_Myself caught in the toil_

_As light tugs one way,_

_Such that the dark does what it may._

_For I am lost, and will never find,_

_How long is my life still mine._

_Long enough to finish my task._

_I believe small enough to fill a flask._

_Shall I go and not return?_

_Let this play be not discerned._

_This cannot be stopped._

_Continue until time will drop._

_I don't want the part I act._

_Know this some part of a secret pact,_

_Not struggle, no pain,_

_But dozens upon dozens slain,_

_Perhaps I will die myself._

_I continue by myself._

_Shall I go or shall I stay?_

_Leave again another day._

_Them of darkness growing stronger,_

_To keep alive even longer._

_Celebrate in hellish style._

_For to hear for miles and miles._

_A time ago, no one heard._

_Time now, how they've learned._

_Longer to be consumed._

_One fight will never be resumed,_

_Of ancient ways forgotten._

_To key of answers lost to men._

_Chasers stole from light's treasure._

_Offered up to darkness's pleasure._

_Me, myself, and I all alone._

_Assistance forever untold,_

_And I want to be one of the dead,_

_I leave behind my thorny bed._

_Asked to become one with light,_

_If I gave away night's plight._

_This I promised with my blood._

_World mixed it to make black mud._

_Had to give my soul to sell,_

_A gift to the light's dark well._

_Name the darkness and its weakness._

_He, the one who said was fearless,_

_Called out a cry that shook the night._

_It broke the dark and rattled the light._

_Kingdom of light fell down._

_Hearts in darkness they did drown._

_But of I who had called out,_

_Refused to admit it was my shout._

_To admit was defeat._

_Tell darkness fleet_

_Me, myself, and I had given in._

_Why I would follow my sin._

_It would end fights,_

_Is the darkness of the night,_

_Of the victory._

_No memory._

_Matter not._

_For dark would survive._

_I followed my lies,_

_Have no more fight in me._

_The ending shall be,_

_Means for light's demise._

_To no more sunrise._

_Force darkness in hearts,_

_It now starts._

_From the dark comes night,_

_Him, the day will light._

_When these two clash_

_I will make the slash._

_Please let me last._

Everyone was silent as Kallisto finished the poem, setting the book on the table and looking at them expectantly. Winter broke the silence first.

"That was…depressing," she started, for lack of a better word, and Kallisto nodded.

"It's the earliest example of Cazador free-style," she explained. Xenos snorted.

"You may call it that, but I call it a bunch of lines that have nothing to do with each other thrown together under the pretense it's a poem," he said, dripping sarcasm, his hands crossed over his chest.

"Are you a poet?" Kallisto cried, scandalized. "Who are you to judge?"

"I know enough to know that _that_ was not poetry."

"How dare you!"

"Stop it, the two of you!" Hotaru snapped, stepping between Kallisto and Xenos. "Is that it to the poem?" she asked, turning to Kallisto. She sighed, loosening her balled fists and clenched teeth.

"Yes," she answered. "There's nothing else there except for the poet's name."

"What is it?" Winter asked.

"Ranothe," she said, and Hotaru frowned.

_"Not Xehanort,"_ she thought. _"Am I missing something, or are we chasing after the wind?"_

It was apparent that Xenos wasn't going to help out of despise for the poem, so Hotaru, Winter, and the enlisted help of Kallisto poured over the poem for two more hours, looking for any references or subtle hints to Xehanort or memories, while Xenos watched from the corner, scribbling on a stray sheet of paper.

"I found Kingdom Hearts!" Winter had once cried, but as it turned out, it wasn't a reference at all, simply two lines, one starting with Kingdom, and the other with Hearts.

"Coincidence," Hotaru had said, moving on.

_"Coincidence,"_ Xenos echoed in his mind, mulling over the poet's name. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but the name sounded familiar, as if he had heard it before. He had even scrambled the letters around, but all that came out of that effort were the words, 'No heart.' Spooky, in his opinion. _"That poem is nothing more than a bunch of unconnected sentences lined up to look like a poem."_ He stopped, going over that thought again. _"Unconnected sentences lined up…and two spelled out Kingdom Hearts…!"_

"Give me the book!" he yelled, exploding up from his chair, and snatching the book from Winter.

"What are you doing? We already checked those pages!" Winter whined as Xenos flipped back to the beginning. "Xenos!"

"Unconnected sentences that line up!" he said. "It makes perfect sense!"

"No it doesn't!" Winter snapped, trying to take the book away from him. "You're being stupid! Give it to me!" But Xenos ignored her, hugging the book to his chest as he looked around for another sheet of paper. The only one that wasn't scribbled all over was still on his desk, and he had the feeling that if he stalled any longer, Winter might tackle him.

"Just listen," he said, jumping up on the table to avoid Winter's attempts to grab the book from his arms, crushing a few innocent papers in the process. He began to read the poem again, but this time, he only read the first word of each line.

_I have crosses the boundaries of worlds, and so am trapped here until I find a way back. However, I am not worried much, as this world is paradise beyond imagination, with sparkling rivers and a variety of flora to examine and name. As I explored, I chanced upon a small city of Chasers, the name these people call themselves. They are excellent metalworkers, but are not very bright. They believe me to be a denizen of the earth, and have treated myself as such. For how long I shall let this continue, I know not, but perhaps I shall leave them to celebrate for a time longer._

_One of the Chasers offered me assistance, and I asked if this world had a name. He called it Kingdom Hearts, but refused to tell me why. It is of no matter, for I have the means to force it from him when I please._

Stunned silence met the end of Xenos's speech, and he stepped off the table, handing the book back to Kallisto.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that," he said. She said nothing, hurt coursing through her body, and she let the book fall to the floor, leaving the room, pride for her city dying under the hidden words.

"It makes no sense though," Winter said. "Why would Ranothe hide Xehanort's memories in his poem?"

"It does make sense," Xenos told her, the poet's name suddenly coming to light. "Take the letters of Ranothe, and rearrange them, you get 'No heart.' Rearrange that, and you get Ehanort." Hotaru's mouth fell open.

"Add 'X' and you have Xehanort," she whispered, looking at the fallen book. No longer benign, the open cover looked like a mouth, ready to consume them all.

------------

Isolde stared out her window, small hands propped under her chin as she watched the light snowfall. Their god, Sora, as he had asked to be called, was wandering around outside, snacking on a piece of chicken. He saw her watching and waved, his wide smile genuine and friendly. She did not smile back, and he moved on, still smiling. Her sister, Astaroth, sat beside her.

"What's the matter," she asked, placing her arms around the child. "What are you looking at?"

"He is not a god," Isolde answered, tracing the fall of a snowflake with her eyes.

"Isolde, do not say such things," Astaroth admonished. "Of course he is a god. He descended from the air."

"The animals don't like him," she said suddenly, and Astaroth frowned, her forehead crinkled in worry. "They say our god is loved by all, and yet the animals don't trust him." She turned to her sister. "Why do the dogs cower and run when he goes to pet them? Why do the cats hiss and scratch with their claws when they see him?" Astaroth stared at her, marveling the intuitiveness of young children.

"I don't know." She meant to say more, but a long moan cut her off. She stopped, and unconsciously held her sister tighter as the eerie chorus of wolves sang, their drawn out cries speaking of anguish and pain.

"And the wolves howl," Isolde whispered. "The wolves sit and howl on the spot where he descended."

------------

Six thousand, six hundred and forty-five words altogether. Don't get used to it, it will never happen again. And I take this space to apologize for those horrendous one hundred and fifty-five lines of horrible poetry. In my defense, Xehanort was not a poet, and therefore, I was writing in his character. Actually, I wrote the majority of that poem while I was at the hairdressers, so perhaps I wrote it in a chemically induced state.

And I also apologize for taking so long with this, but like I said in the beginning, I had an excuse. We've been getting a lot of lightning storms lately, and I wanted to make sure I didn't lost the document, so I put it on autosave. Of course, since I have an iMac, the thing is temperamental as hell. Microsoft Word crashed, and it took the document with it. Out of the two thousand plus I had written, it saved five hundred and twenty-seven.

Anyway, out of curiosity, how many of you skipped over the poem? And be honest! I know I would have. And brownie points to anyone who can tell me what Cazador and Estilo Viejo Armadura mean and from what language. Read and Review!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Morgana Maeve

I want Kingdom Hearts 2 Final Mix+. I want it, and I want it now, and as soon as it's available in Japan, I'm going to be stalking E-bay until I muscle a copy of it for myself. And then you won't be seeing another chapter for at least two years, depending on how long it takes me beat the game.

Moving on, the new extended trailer (which I haven't seen yet, but I have seen a picture from it) for Kingdom Hearts 3/Kingdom Hearts Keyblade Wars has completely destroyed everything this fic is based on, so now I'm torn between wanting to finish this, or simply pulling it off the 'net completely. I mean, you get to see half of the soldier guy's face! And naturally, Square Enix gave him the generic blue eye, so he's like an older Sora. But not, since Nomura stated that the three soldier people aren't characters that have appeared before. I showed a picture of him to my friend, and he said it's probably Sora's father, which threw me for a loop considering I always thought Sora was congealed from pond water…

If you want the picture, E-mail me, and I'll send it to you as an attachment.

Disclaimer – I own Xenos and his hazel eyes, Hotaru, Winter, and any other OC 's that pop up. Tetsuya Nomura and Disney own Kingdom Hearts, Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories, and Kingdom Hearts 2, along with the plans for Kingdom Hearts 3, which will be released in about ten years. Yay.

-------------

"What should we do? I feel bad for her."

"She overreacted. Leave her be."

"You're horrible, Hotaru!"

"No, she's got a point. It's not that big of a deal that their so-called 'demigod' turned out to be Xehanort. Hell, I doubt she even knows who Xehanort is!"

"…Are you done being completely unfeeling?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"Good. Go away before I kill you."

"You plan to console her?"

"Don't sound so amused, Hotaru, and yes, I do."

"Call us when you need damage control!"

"Goodbye, Xenos!"

Kallisto listened to the trio of bickering voices, knees pulled to her chest, watching the three sets of shadows dance across the wall through red eyes. Two pairs of shadowy legs departed, _"Hotaru and Xenos,"_ Kallisto thought, and the remaining pair shifted slightly, as if the owner was unsure of what to do next. Gradually, the shadow ceased to be long, and morphed into a short squat blob, and Kallisto turned her head slightly to see Winter kneeling in the opening between the stairs and the floor, head titled to one side, studying Kallisto quietly. Kallisto turned away. 

"What?" she asked, sullenly, hugging her knees tighter to her chest. _"Go away,"_ she added, mentally.

"Are you going to be okay?" Winter asked her, dropping to her hands and knees and crawling closer to her. 

Kallisto averted the question with, "How did you find me? Nobody ever looks under stairs; it's too obvious."

"Whenever I get upset, I hide too," Winter answered. "But then Xenos always finds me and makes things worse, so I forget what I'm upset about." Kallisto snorted.

"You're flighty," she said, slanting her gaze to the girl in the opening. Winter's eyes narrowed slightly, and she breathed deep, her answer to Kallisto's jab coming out in a sigh.

"And you're childish." Kallisto sat up straighter, stretching out her legs and looked towards Winter. Winter's face, usually so open and easy to read was uncharacteristically stoic and expressionless, her eyes levelly holding Kallisto's heated gaze. "Running from your problems like that." Even her voice was cold.

After a moment of amazed silence, Kallisto ventured forth, asking suspiciously, "Are you trying to imitate Hotaru?" Winter tried to maintain her former demeanor, she really did, but the half-incredulous, half-confused look Kallisto had fixed on her was simply too funny not to laugh at, and try as she might, Winter could not save herself from a barrage of sputtering laughter. Overcome, she nodded, and Kallisto, after a moment's hesitation, joined her. "You and your friends are such strange people," Kallisto told her, running her fingers through her hair, trying unsuccessfully to set it back into its proper position.

"Well, we have to be," Winter answered, and when Kallisto looked at her expectantly for an answer, she said, "No, you don't want to know."

_"You're hiding something,"_ Kallisto thought, but before she could push further, Winter interrupted her.

"So, are you feeling better now? Ready to come out from underneath the stairs?" Kallisto nodded and followed her out of the cramped space.

"Xenos was right, I did overreact," she said, holding up a hand when Winter opened her mouth. "Don't tell me I didn't, because I know I did. Besides, I don't want to argue anymore and I still have to give you three your new armor."

"Did someone say new armor?" Both girls jumped and whirled around to the source of the questioning voice, and sure enough, there was Xenos, peeking around the corner of the wall, his usual cheeky grin spread across his face, Hotaru with him as well, watching impassively. "I'd like new armor."

"But we didn't ask for new armor," Hotaru interjected coolly, rising and making her way over to Kallisto. "Winter merely asked if you could fix our old armor. New armor was never mentioned." Despite herself, Kallisto's mouth went dry, and she gaped at the silver-haired woman who regarded her carefully with her burnt-orange stare. Winter looked worriedly from Hotaru to Kallisto and then to Xenos, who grinned boarder and shrugged, obviously enjoying himself.

"Well, you see…" Kallisto started out. "Your armor is fairly ancient, and…" Why was she so afraid of her? No, it wasn't fear; it was more…this Hotaru, whoever she was, was almost regal. Yes, that's what it was. She was commanding, self-contained. Kallisto took a deep breath and took the plunge. "And, I dropped Xenos's, and it broke, and since they're so ancient, I couldn't fix it, so I made you all new armor," she said, all in one breath.

"Oh," Hotaru said, lifting her shoulder. "Is that all?" Was that a smirk Kallisto detected playing on Hotaru's lips?

_"She's toying with me!"_ Kallisto realized, outraged. Hotaru, as if sensing her thoughts, laughed softly, and turned away. Kallisto's jaw dropped.

"Kallisto," Winter whispered, hoping to sound placating, and Xenos, having finally decided to stop being amused at Kallisto's expense, stretched to full height and sauntered over, fully intent on making this as uncomfortable as he could for everybody, but before he could say anything, something tickled in the back of his mind, and he stopped, all playfulness gone.

"Do you feel that?" he asked, his hazel eyes glancing from left to right, trying to find the source of that niggling feeling of uncertainty, that little siren that was softly screaming in his ear that something was very wrong.

"Vibrations," Hotaru said, her eye glowing slightly, and Kallisto gasped and jumped back. But yes, now she could feel them too, the little tremors that tickled her feet and worked their way up through her legs and settled in her stomach. And then the numbness counteracted with the unsettling vibrations, and the two battled for dominance while Kallisto froze.

"I don't feel anything," Winter snapped, folding her arms over her chest.

"Shut up," Xenos barked, unintentionally stinging her by the way she drooped and lowered her eyes to the floor. The unsettling feeling, at first so evanescent, was becoming stronger, more tangible, buzzing throughout his body.

"It's the Serpiente del Infierno," Kallisto whispered, the old Cazador words spilling from her mouth in panic. "The Hell Serpent."

"What Hell Serpent?" Hotaru asked, but before Kallisto could answer, the silent tremors increased into a roaring wave, tearing through the corridor, lifting Hotaru, Xenos, and Winter off the ground and throwing them where it pleased, and they landed hard on the stone floor, bruised and bloodied. Only Kallisto remained unscathed, anticipating the shockwave and jumping to avoid it.

Hotaru stood without a sound, holding her injured elbow in one hand, gasping for breath, winded from the fall. Both Xenos and Winter groaned as they rose, Winter's lip cut and bleeding heavily, and Xenos limping, an ugly bruise spreading across his knee under his clothes. The three looked at Kallisto, and without conveying words, they rushed down the hallway and out into the blazing sun.

It was like an endless maze of stone buildings. Xenos lost sense of his direction as pain blossomed in his knee and as he struggled to keep up with Kallisto as she led them through stone block after stone block.

"Just where is this damned thing!" he yelled to no one in particular, but Kallisto answered him anyway.

"On the outskirts of the city!" she cried breathlessly behind her shoulder. "The guards never let it get that far!"

"You mean this is a daily thing?" Winter yelled, her voice somewhat muffled by her hand, trying to stop the bleeding from her split lip.

"Not daily, but it happens enough for us to have learned!"

"And you don't kill it?" Hotaru, the only calm one it seemed, asked.

"You can't kill it!"

They had reached the edge of the city, and though Kallisto kept running, Winter stopped short, and Xenos nearly plowed into her from behind as he too stared up at the Serpiente del Infierno.

Monstrous. That was the only way to describe it. Monstrous. So monstrous, that it made the Iwahara Honoo seem like a plaything.

Long and snaky, the Serpiente del Infierno towered over them, even from the distance, and the bright sunlight glinted over sharp fangs, the size of sabers. Already, several guards were battling with it, archers and swordsmen fighting with whatever was available to them, but the serpent was too powerful, and it beat the ground with its tail, tossing a few unsuspecting fighters in the air and back down with a sickening thud. Winter, Xenos, and Hotaru, already having learned their lesson, jumped, and this time they could clearly see the path of the shockwave beneath them.

"I think we're in way over our heads," Winter murmured, taking a step back.

"We have to help," Xenos said stubbornly, already limping towards the battle.

"Is he insane?" Hotaru looked at her, tiredly.

"Do you really have to ask?" she said, running after him. Winter stood there for a moment, sighed, and then followed after the two, her steps heavy with resignation.

"Get out of here!" Kallisto spoke sharply as she found Xenos suddenly standing next to her. She tried to shove him away, but he firmly held his ground, and as the two girls came running up, she gave in. "Fine, but don't get in the way!"

"You know," Hotaru said slyly, looking at her dryly. "This would be a really good time to test out that new armor of yours." Kallisto went red in embarrassment. Of course! How could she be so stupid!

"Stay here, I'll be right back!" she yelled, and began to stride back toward the city.

"Wait!" Kallisto stopped short at the sound of panic in Xenos's voice, and from the corner of her eye, she could see the gaping maw of the Serpiente del Infierno coming closer, closer, closer.

Time froze, and Kallisto counted the seconds.

_"Please don't let it hurt,"_ she thought.

And then there was a great snapping sound, and she was being carried through the air. She did not know death, but she was fairly sure death did not include flying through the air. She opened her eyes.

The Serpiente del Infierno was feet behind her, its head burrowed in the ground, its tail lashing out furiously behind it as it struggled to free itself from the packed sand.

And she realized that she was being carried by Xenos, who had taken a running leap to save her, despite the now burning sensation in his knee that was sending thrills of pain throughout his leg.

"You can be really stupid sometimes, you know," he told her, trying to grin through his grimace. She felt herself flushing again, but this time, it wasn't from embarrassment. Settling herself uncomfortably against his chest, she tried to relax as they landed, and Hotaru and Winter, both of whom were following Xenos's small flight from ground level, caught up with him.

"What are we doing?" Winter asked him, panting heavily, her lip still bleeding slightly.

"We're going to fight it," Xenos answered, his attention on the Serpiente del Infierno. The latter had managed to free itself from its sandy confinement, and was slowly winding its way towards the four, its disturbingly keen eyes always on them, and its tongue flicking in and out of its mouth.

"We're at a disadvantage," Hotaru reminded him, she too watching the serpent. "But I'm guessing it doesn't matter much to you." Xenos quirked a smile at her, and she rolled her eyes, but stepped up next to him, Winter following suite and standing at his other side, the three of them forming a line in front of the Hell Serpent.

Kallisto hung back, and had the feeling she was witnessing something more than just simple teamwork. It was as if they all shared one body and mind, and drew strength from each other. She blinked, and the three had crouched, and weapons she had only heard legends about had been drawn, their metallic surfaces shimmering in the sun.

"Keyblade Masters," she breathed, her eyes wide.

"Keyblade Warriors," Winter corrected her. "Not Masters, not yet." And then the three were gone, darting towards the Serpiente del Infierno with Xenos in the lead.

"Cursed," Kallisto whispered.

-------------

They had been fighting far too long, and the beating sun had already made them tire faster than wonted. The Serpiente del Infierno was immensely strong, and even though one of its saber-like teeth had been broken by Hotaru's Psychic Blast combined with Xenos's Demonic Current, it showed no signs of pain or weariness.

Winter broke into a dash again, breathing heavily and sweating, throwing her Keyblade at the monster, but it read her movements and used its tail to beat the Keyblade back towards her. She flipped backwards, and jolting pain shot up her arm from her wrist, and she collapsed, crashing to the ground in defeat, her Keyblade landing next to her. Xenos materialized seemingly from nowhere and struck at the thing's tail with all his strength, but all that accomplished was a ringing metallic clang, and his arms shook with the resounding wave. Hotaru was could not be seen.

Winter ached all over, new bruises forming every minute, and she was tired, too tired to stay awake, too tired to care anymore. She closed her eyes, and fatigue washed through her, a spasm tore through her leg, but she didn't even feel it anymore…But what was that above her? Boots? Not Hotaru's boots, and she could hear Xenos yelling obscenities at the serpent, so it couldn't be his boots, so whose boots were they. If only she weren't so tired, then she would be able to sit up and see who owned the boots. Someone said something she didn't quite catch, and then a yell of, "Fire!"

If he could just jam his Keyblade in the damned thing's mouth, then it might stop for minute. Xenos cursed angrily, and though his leg felt as if it were on fire, he gritted his teeth against it, and leapt again, aiming for the Serpiente del Infierno's wide mouth.

Pain exploded in his arm, and he looked over to see a lance protruding from the crook of his elbow into the air. He stared at it stupidly, landing somewhere on the ground, and he poked it, the movement wracking his arm in pain. He looked over to his other side, where Winter lay in total defeat, and could see a line of soldiers, their arms poised over their heads as if they had just thrown something, and one of them had his hand over his mouth, his eyes locked with Xenos's. He looked at the lance again.

"Does my arm look like some kind of big snaky thing to you!" he yelled, brandishing his Keyblade in his good arm. "Demonic Current!" The soldiers scattered. "Idiots," he mumbled, gripping the lance in his hand and pulling it out in one quick motion. He hissed in pain.

"Don't pull that out!" Hotaru suddenly yelled, running past him. "It keeps the blood in!" He looked at his arm again and blanched. Blood poured out of the wound, soaking his clothes and saturating the ground.

Oh. This wasn't good.

She'd had enough. The Serpiente del Infierno was annoying her, and though a lot of things annoyed her, the Serpiente de Infierno was really annoying, and it needed to die. It needed to die very soon, and Hotaru would be damned if she wasn't the one to kill it. Winter was as good as dead, nearly unconscious on the ground somewhere behind her, and Xenos was losing blood like mad, and his leg would probably be torn beyond repair if he kept fighting the way he did.

Tension gathered behind her eyes, and she knew they were glowing, but there wasn't much she could do to stop that, and besides, who cared anymore? Certainly not she, now that there was no point. That monstrosity was too powerful for them, and even if they had the armor, it wouldn't have helped. They had been defeated, and that was that, there was no denying it, no matter how much Xenos fought against the pain, and no matter how much Winter tried to stand up, only flop back down to the ground, her legs unable to support her weight anymore.

_"So this is it, isn't it,"_ she thought, smiling ruefully_. "We all die by being eaten by an overgrown Chaser."_ Ironic that she was thinking so fatalistically, and yet, something inside her rebelled against dying. But really, there was nothing left to do, except wait for the Hell Serpent to reach her; it was almost there, all it had to do was come a little closer, and she would be in its mouth. There, see! She was looking inside the mouth of death, its unhinged jaws impossibly big, and all she could see endless was blackness.

And then she remembered Riku and the everlasting darkness that had swallowed him without pity, and oh! _She didn't want to die!_

She couldn't remember exactly what had happened next, but the tension behind her eyes grew to such a splitting pain, she needed to release it, and she was burning up, fire was consuming her.

The blackness was reaching out to her, calling her.

She lifted her Keyblade, and pointed it at that darkness, and turned the dark to light. Fire flew from her Keyblade, leaving her to consume the Serpiente del Infierno, and all she knew was that the unbearable heat was leaving her, and she felt wonderfully cool, oblivious to the shrieking thing in front of her, burning flames running down its body, oblivious to the yelling warriors behind her and Xenos's calls for her to stop, _stop, the thing was already dead!_

But she couldn't stop because it felt so nice.

But she had to, because there was nothing left for the fire to consume except the blackened and crispy corpse of the Hell Serpent, and so she lowered her Keyblade, and the glazed look left her eyes, and as soon as she recovered all her senses, she recoiled in horror, for she knew what she had done.

Magic.

She had crossed the line, she had used Magic, and now that she had used it once, it would always be there, that uncontrollable urge to release the that power and feel blissfully cold. Healing was one thing, that helped, but using magic to kill…She truly was damned.

No, stop thinking like that.

Xenos was walking towards her, carrying Winter in his arms. She needed to be strong.

"What was that?" he asked, his face drawn from pain as well as some other emotion she couldn't place. Fear? Anger? Confusion? A mix of all three?

"Xenos," Winter whispered weakly. "Put me down. Your arm." He sighed impatiently, ignoring the steady flow of blood down his arm and the paleness of his face.

"Well?" he demanded.

"It was nothing," Hotaru answered coolly. Do not let him know! She pointed to her eye. "Thank my father." She stuck out her chin and dared him to ask anymore. He almost did, but then his pain roared through his body, and he collapsed, dropping Winter to the ground, and he lay there, unconscious.

From far away, Kallisto watched, and when Hotaru looked up at her, she froze, but, swallowing the lump in her throat, she moved towards her to help.

None of the others there moved.

-------------

"…Hotaru?"

"What?"

"It's about Xenos."

"Xenos is fine." With that, Hotaru purposely strode forward, and Winter wrung her hands together, following the length of rope that reached from Hotaru's hand to a little ways back from her, ending in a secure loop around Xenos's ankle. A thin film of dust covered him and the three packages Hotaru had piled on top of his chest for carrying purposes.

"Are you sure you should be dragging him like that?" Winter asked, hopping from foot to foot in her agitation.

"If he's stupid enough to pull a lance out of his arm, he's stupid enough to be dragged across the desert," Hotaru answered curtly, but Winter still glanced back at him in pity. "Oh, stop that!" But she really didn't want Winter to stop talking, because if Winter wasn't there to distract her, she would think about Magic, and then she might break down, so she needed Winter's incessant chatter to keep her grounded.

Whoever would have thought she would need to lean on Winter?

"But, Hotaru!" Winter was whining. "What if you reopen his wounds?"

"I highly doubt that will happen, since I healed him. He's merely recovering from blood loss."

"Hey, Hotaru?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure you healed him properly?"

"Yes." Good, she was feeling annoyed.

"Hotaru?"

"What!" she snapped, whirling around, the rope snapping against her leg.

"What's that on Xenos's chest?" Winter asked, pointing to the new addition to the packages. Hotaru stopped, confused for a minute.

"I think it's a Chaser," she said at length, watching the thing suspiciously as it hopped off of Xenos and waddled over to them.

Whatever it was, it was small, and seemed relatively harmless, with long ears and a furry body, and with large black eyes, it looked up at Winter, and she was instantly smitten.

"Look at it! It's so cute!" she squealed, bending over and picking it up. The Chaser, if that was what it was, didn't seem to mind too much, and its bottom half wiggled in what could have been pleasure.

"Winter, I think you should put that down," Hotaru warned, but Winter was too busy cooing over the furry thing to pay her any attention.

"You're so adorable!" she said, holding the furry Chaser out in front of her. "What kind of Chaser are you?"

"Why are you talking to that thing?"

The Chaser almost seemed to grin at Winter, and Winter cooed even more over it, but then the thing convulsed and flipped itself over, the bottom half grinning psychotically at her, pointed teeth hanging over its bottom lip, cackling. Winter shrieked and dropped it, but it scurried back over to her and bit down on her shoe. She screamed again, and this time, Hotaru intervened, sending it flying with a well-aimed kick.

"I told you not to touch it," she said imperiously, but before Winter could retort, the cackling came back, this time louder, and both girls turned around in time to see an oncoming mass of evilly cackling furry Chasers racing towards them.

Both girls blanched.

"They're gonna bury Xenos!" Winter yelped, and Hotaru broke into a run, Xenos skimming the ground just at the cusp of the tidal wave of Chasers. One jumped on his face, and he woke up long enough to yell, "There's an ass on my face!" and throw it away.

Even though Hotaru and Winter were both very fast runners, the Chasers were gaining on them, and when they both looked back, they were shocked and dismayed to see more and more Chasers behind them, ranging from Spiralers to Scorpioniadas to Chasers Hotaru had never even seen before. And all of them were stampeding right behind them, and the Chasers were gaining on the two girls very quickly.

"I think we're in trouble," Winter said, biting her lip. Hotaru nodded in agreement, dragging Xenos closer to them.

And then the sky opened up, and everything was sucked up into the black hole there. The nearest Chasers went first, and with no matter to their sizes, they were all lifted up, the ones with limbs and paws striking at the air, the ones that could make noise screaming and bellowing. Rocks and sand followed them, swirling up into the vortex that appeared from nowhere. Hotaru and Winter watched, slack jawed, and almost didn't notice when Hotaru let go of the rope and Xenos began to float up to the vortex as well.

It was Winter who noticed him first, and she did the one thing that came to mind. She shrieked and seized the rope, but she was slight, and soon she was floating up with him and the Chasers. She screamed for Hotaru, and Hotaru, who had been watching all this in sheer amazement, snapped out of her daze, and grasped onto Winter's leg with one hand, and grabbed the nearest rock with the other. It felt as if she were being split in two, but the drive to save her friends was strong, and it lent her strength to keep her hold.

It was during this time that Xenos woke up. In his dream, he had felt the oddest sensation that he was suspended in air, with something sucking him up on one side and something holding him down on the other. Curiosity drove him to shake off the dream, and he forced himself awake, only to find that he was not, in fact, dreaming, but that Winter had somehow situated herself around his waist, and that there was a giant swirling black hole in the sky that was sucking up everything not firmly secured to the ground.

In short, it was not a pleasant way to wake up.

"Help me!" he yelled, looking from the vortex to Winter and then to Hotaru, who was struggling to hold on to the tip of a spire, and that tip looked as if it were about to break at any moment… "I am not in my happy place!"

"Shut up!" roared Winter, angry in her panic, and nervous about being bombarded by the Chasers that were rising precariously around them. "None of us are in our damned happy places, it's not just you!"

The tip of the spire broke off, and the three were sent spiraling up to the vortex. It loomed, all black with streaks of purple through it, and they all screamed, but then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone, and then they were falling down, down, down to the ground with the Chasers, and everybody hit the sand with a loud thud.

"What is this bony thing I've landed on?" Xenos asked, on his back, bent in the most uncomfortable position he could think of. "Could it be perhaps a Spiraler?"

"Get off me!" Winter yelled, trying to kick him, but he was on top of her, and he caught her legs easily. "You're so stupid!"

"The two of you! Grow up!" Hotaru yelled from someplace to their left. Her hair was disheveled, sticking up all over the place, and she had sand in her clothes, and she was very displeased with the whole situation. "What was that all about!"

"A giant swirling whirlpool of doom!" Xenos volunteered. Winter smacked him. Hard.

"But more importantly," Hotaru continued, as if Xenos had never answered her question, and Winter had never hit him in the face. "Where did it come from and why?"

-------------

So, what was it and where did it come from? I know, but do you? Stay tuned for the next chapter to find out more!

And yes, I did change my pen name, so no BS about me plagiarizing. Yami396/Yami 396/Yami-396 and Morgana Maeve are one and the same. Don't report me.

Ack, it's 2:00 AM! I need sleep! But I can't sleep, because I was watching previews for The Grudge 2, and now I think Kayako is going to kill me! Wait, I'll just do my 'little girl from The Ring' impression and confuse her! Victory is mine!

Sorry, lack of sleep makes me giddy. But, um, yeah, you can only see the pen name change on Mediaminer is an ass and won't let me change it. Do you hear that Mediaminer? My heart belongs to now! But wait, I get most of reviews for this fic at Mediaminer, so…Mediaminer has my heart for this fic, but the rest of them go to NYAH!

…ZZZZzzzzZZZZzzzzZZZZZzzzzzZZZZ…

R&R!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Morgana Maeve

Where's my snow, damn it? It's cold enough.

Disclaimer – I own Winter, Hotaru, Xenos, and any OC's that happen to inhabit this fic. Sora and Kingdom Hearts belong to Tetsuya Nomura and Disney. (If Disney owns Sora, then how come there's no Kingdom Hearts stuff in the Disney Store? They should have a Sora bedspread. I'd totally buy that…Shaddup.)

---------------

Sora's heart, safe by day and ensnared by night, beat uneasily against his chest as the darkness lapped at its edges, eager to heed the beckoning call of the blackness churning just beyond the door. Louder it called, bidding its partner to come play in the chill wind that swirled powdery snow in dizzying circles.

Wind perfect for erasing tracks.

Again, the darkness within the soiled depths of Sora's heart pulsed, and the normal beating of his heart lulled. Frost cracked on the glass window, icy fingers reaching no more, and time stood still. The wind died down from a gusty roar to a breathy whisper and then stood still, as if it were holding its breath in anticipation. The whirling snow settled with a quiet sigh, and all was still as the two silvery moons of Icy Creek rose in harmony. As they floated upwards like twin nacreous bubbles tracing patterns in the inky sky, from the spot where Sora's feet first touched the ground from his descent from the cliff, a long, mournful cry sang out, the melancholy note hanging in the still of the night. Another note joined it, and together, the wails sang a song of desolation and decay, and as the last clear note echoed tenuously throughout the night, the darkness, freed by song, surged forth throughout Sora's body.

From its epicenter at his heart, the darkness spread its spindly, wispy fingers, twining around Sora's chest and limbs, twisting through his blood. It boiled around him, and with a sharp moan, his back arched and the thick blankets fell away from his body, revealing overheated flesh to the biting cold. Blue eyes snapped open, black tendrils swirling in ever-changing patterns across his irises, and he rose, long legs sliding out of the warm bed onto the cold stone floor, his body shivering, though his subconscious failed to register this. In four quick strides, he was at the door, and as soon as he had laid his hand against the frosted metal of the handle, an immense gale, seemingly unable to contain its excitement any longer, threw it open with a resounding bang, revealing two hazy silhouettes sitting regally in the snow. Sora stepped outside, the heavy oak door closing silently behind him, and the wind stopped howling abruptly, as if an invisible barrier had been erected around him and his two unexpected, yet not totally uninvited, guests. In fact, just beyond where their tails laid curled in the snow, branches still shook and scattered snow in gusty abandonment.

Such is the power of the darkness.

The two visitors – wolves – one dusky black and the other nearly melting into the snow, sat before him, their great haunches nearly buried in the deep snow, watching him intently with fine golden eyes. The silvery one, the taller of the two, stood and shook stray snowflakes of its coat before prancing around at the edge of the invisible barrier, eager to start hunting. He yipped at Sora and snapped his jaws, jumping excitedly on powerful hind legs. The darker one, both smaller and thinner than her companion, walked forward to nuzzle Sora's hand, her coat sleek and thick to his touch. He petted her head and scratched the underside of her throat, as if she were a mere overly large, overly friendly dog, and as he did so, she pressed her snout into his side, inhaling the sharp metallic scent of death and darkness that flowed around her new master. She barked twice, and in response, the darkness told Sora the wolves' names.

"Kali and Argyros," he whispered, and the wolves tilted their heads at the sound. The darkness continued, weaving the tale of Argyros, the tall, silver male, the invisible hunter, whose presence meant certain death was approaching, and of Kali, the black female, the stalker of shadows, whose presence meant impending disaster. Sibling guardians of nighttime horrors, created by a god swallowed in darkness, they served only those who likewise embraced the darkness until they had been banished to the bowels of the world by enchantments and bindings, only to be freed when Kingdom Hearts had been corrupted and the worlds plunged into the black abyss. They had wandered in the forests marking the borders of their world, waiting for their master – at one time it had been Xehanort, who had called himself Ansem, and who had passed by the world without so much as a backwards glance, and now they served Sora, the accidental false god of Icy Creek.

Argyros howled impatiently, pawing the snow in agitation, and Kali positioned herself at Sora's side, waiting for him to move forward, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. Sora smiled at them.

"Let's start the hunt," he said, his voice the deep tenor of his darker side. His smile widened, and in the moonlight, his eyes shown with a stunningly eerie clarity, much like the greenish glow reflected in the wolves' eyes. Both canines danced around his feet as he extended his arm in front of him, palm up, and the barrier surrounding the three disappeared, the wind rushing in to fill the gap, whipping fur and hair in to a snowy frenzy. Kali and Argyros howled again, and began sprinting into the night, Sora following close behind, the darkness lending his body the strength to withstand cold and fatigue in return for more of his ever-so-slowly shrinking heart.

---------------

Izotz felt his head pressing harder onto his palm, and every time he blinked, it took such an effort to open his eyes again that he wondered why he even bothered trying to keep them open. Besides, the fire in front of him was so warm, and he'd been on watch duty for hours, and he hadn't slept well for nights now, with the wolves howling and whatnot, and he was just so tired, and the fire was just so very nice…and…and…

The sharp pain that blossomed in the back of his head brought him rushing back into reality, and his head slipped from his suspiciously wet palm, falling to the floor with a loud thump. He started back up, blinking groggily from sleep and pain, mildly wondering if this was what a concussion felt like. Maybe they would let him leave early.

"And just what do you think you're doing, Izotz?" Izotz groaned. He knew that voice well.

"I was tired," he mumbled, turning to look back at Victor, the overbearing and pompous high priest, with muzzy eyes. Victor glowered at him, brandishing his staff, the knobbed end of it the same shape and size as the lump forming on the back of Izotz's head.

_"Why does he even have that thing, anyway?"_ he thought. _"It's not like he's old or anything. I bet he just likes to hit people with it."_ He realized Victor was still glaring at him, and tried belatedly to school his features into a face of extreme shame and repentance.

"Tiredness is not an excuse," Victor said loudly, and Izotz squashed the sudden urge to roll his eyes. He could probably recite this speech backwards; he had heard it so many times. "We all have a duty here, and that is to give our very being to this world and keep it safe." Izotz began to mouth the words along with him. "We have been specially chosen to protect this world, to give our very lives to this world if so called to, and to dishonor your world so much as to fall asleep…young man, are you mocking me?!" Izotz's mouth shut at this new edition to Victor's speech, and glanced sheepishly up at the older man, whose face had turned to such a bright red, that Izotz was afraid his head might burst.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, but it did nothing to calm the irate man, and Izotz took a step back as the fuming Victor stalked forward. The warmth on Izotz's back became a burning warning, and he looked worriedly at Victor's raised staff. The staff jabbed at him, aiming for his forehead, and Izotz threw himself to the left, the wind from the staff whistling through his hair. "Ack!"

"Wretched boy!" Victor snarled, drawing his staff back - only to find half of it consumed by fire. "Curse it!" he yelled, throwing the ashy remains of his staff into the fire and advancing towards Izotz. "That was my best staff!"

_"He has more than one?"_ Izotz thought, trying to remember if the door was to his left or to his right. Out loud, he said, "I truly am sorry, sir! Is there any way I can repay you for it? Extra hours? I'll scrub the floor! I'll patrol the outside of the shrine!" Victor stopped, and tapped his chin thoughtfully.

"I could use a new personal assistant," he said, giving Izotz an appraising glance. Izotz had the slight feeling this was what a cattle for auction felt like. He tried not to cringe at the thought of serving Victor for hours on end. Suddenly, being poked and prodded by a staff didn't seem so bad…

"My duty is to this shrine and its priest." Izotz's voice was honey-sweet, and he played towards Victor's pride, even though what Izotz only wanted to do was to retch, long and hard. Victor smiled portentously at him.

"Well, I am grateful that you are not the lost cause I had thought you to be, Izotz," Victor began, but as he took a deep breath, readying for a long speech of how important he was, two long howls stopped him dead, and Izotz's skin prickled uneasily on the back of his neck and on his arms. "What was that?" Victor asked quietly, looking surreptitiously behind him at the door. Izotz shrugged, refraining from answering with the obvious 'wolves.'

From behind the door, scuffling noises and muttered voices, some echoing Victor's question, some answering, "Damned wolves. They haven't shut up for days now!" overpowered the gale outside for a short time. The scuffling turned to sharp tramps as the patrolmen descend the wooden stairs leading up to the main door of the shrine, and all was silent as they searched the ground for the stray wolves. Izotz knew that most, if not all of the men were armed with spears or arrows, and that all of them were masters of their weapons. New fur blankets might find their way to families tomorrow morning if the patrol found the source of the howling.

"Nothing to worry about, "Victor said, a little breathily, his hand fluttering near his chest. Outside, all was still silent.

The flame crackled, and both Victor and Izotz jumped, blaming each other through their eyes.

"I guess," Izotz answered, worrying a loose thread of his sleeve.

"Stop that."

The silence loomed outside.

And then the screaming began.

It started as one yelp of surprise, and then rose into a scream of terror that was cut off entirely too soon into a liquid gurgle. Raised voices shouted, and then the shouts turned to screams of their own, screams of fear and of pain, and Victor and Izotz stared at the closed door in horror, dumbstruck and frozen, nearly uncomprehending all that was happening behind the door until it rattled on its hinges, and the sound of something sliding damply down its surface reached their ears. Izotz gagged, clamping a hand over his mouth, trying desperately to stop the heaving of his stomach, and Victor, trembling, stepped closer to the door.

The silence was back, this time more oppressive and malignant.

Victor took another step forward, and with trembling hands, fumbled with the handle, finally pulling it open after what seemed like eons, and stepped outside, giving Izotz one last look as he pulled the door closed behind him. Izotz shivered uncontrollably.

"Dear heavens above save us all." Victor's voice was muffled through the door, but that did nothing to mask the abject terror in his voice. "What happened here? What could have…what is that? Stay back! Stay back!" There was soft thud as Victor pressed himself against the door. Izotz's hands clenched. "Stay away from me! What do you want! No, get away! …Oh thank the stars you're here! Wait, what are you doing? What are you doing? Call them off! Call them off! No!" Nails skittered across the wooden floor, and Victor stopped in mid-scream.

Quivering from head to toe, Izotz crossed the remaining distance between himself and the door, his path crooked and weaving like a drunkard's, and hesitated at the door, his hands shaking in tremors that ran up his arm and to his skull. Taking a deep breath, he tried to steel himself for whatever lay beyond it, but failed at the last moment, closing his eyes as he pulled opened the door. Cold wind gushed in, nearly dousing the great pyre in the far side of the room, and something fell into the doorway, landing wetly at his feet. Izotz gagged again and took another deep, albeit shaky, breath before opening his eyes.

Victor's face stared up into his, eyes unfocused, throat torn apart.

Izotz stared down at him, eyes widening in something completely beyond horror, throat working convulsively. He took a step back, found his knees could no longer support his weight, and crashed to the ground, cowering as something else padded into the room. It stood over him and growled, and when he opened his eyes, he stared into the blazing gold eyes of a pure black wolf.

He nearly screamed, and the wolf closed its jaws over his throat, its teeth sinking into skin. Izotz didn't even bother trying to struggle, and just closed his eyes again, waiting for the end.

"Kali, let him go." A new voice spoke, this one a sultry tenor, and the wolf released his throat, blood running from the holes left behind. Izotz sat up and scrambled away, one hand clutching his torn skin, and looked up to see his god standing in the doorway, hair covered in snow, and nearly naked.

"_Okay,"_ a little hysterical voice in his head provided. _"That's _unexpected_."_ It was probably not the best of thoughts to have at such a time, seeing as two wolves were prowling around him, but it was the best his shell-shocked brain could come up with at the moment. He glanced around, and then looked back to Sora, only find Sora's face inches from his own. _"Gah! Oh, my…"_

"Where is the Keyhole?" Sora asked, staring with electric blue eyes into Izotz's murky green eyes.

"I don't know," he answered at length, trying to inch away discreetly. Sora's hand shot up and wrapped around his throat, applying small pressure. It was enough to make Izotz gasp for breath.

"The Keyhole," Sora said again, pointedly, applying more pressure.

"I don't know!" His eyes were beginning to roll back.

"Tell me where the Keyhole is!" In desperation, Izotz glanced at the flames that roared in the massive pyre, and Sora let him go, air rushing into his starved lungs, leaving all too soon and making him want more. "See, that wasn't so bad."

"What…what are you doing?" Izotz gasped, blood soaking his shirt. Sora smiled down at him.

"It's a secret," he whispered, and once again, his hand wrapped around Izotz's throat, and with a loud crack, he snapped Izotz's neck. The body fell, head at an impossible angle, and Sora left him there, more interested in the flaming Keyhole than that nuisance of a boy.

Kali and Argyros circled the pyre, sniffing experimentally at its base, making soft whimpering noises as Sora came closer. They were agitated; the Keyhole was well protected with similar enchantments to the ones that had bound them, and as soon as Sora called them away from it, they slunk away with their tails between their legs and heads bowed.

Sora studied the pyre, walking along its circumference, examining it from its base to its rim, just beneath the roaring flames. There was no sign of a Keyhole. He frowned and glared at Izotz's body, wondering if he had been lied to.

"Where is it?" he muttered to himself, crossing his arms across his bare chest, staring into the flames. He blinked, and something glinted in its center, iridescent in the midst of crackling yellow and red. He brought his face close to the edge of the fire, eyes watering from the intense heat, skin dangerously close to blistering. Whatever it was flashed again, and this time, Sora was able to make out the thin outline of a keyhole, winking tantalizing at him before disappearing again.

"_Of course, it's in the fire,"_ he thought, and the small part of him that was still his own and not fully tainted by darkness cowered back, afraid of what the darkness urged his body to do. Farther that little piece of him moved away from the darkness, until it reached the part of his mind that still believed his friends were alive, and gratefully, it sunk in with those warm thoughts, burying itself in memories of happier times.

Sora straightened, staring at the fire for a long while, the light reflecting in his eyes. He hesitated for a moment, fingers fidgeting, biting his lower lip hard before raising his hands and plunging them deep within the flames. He grimaced but did not scream out, though the skin on his hands hissed in pain and the acrid smell of burned flesh rose steadily in the air. Kali and Argyros screamed for him, their high-pitched howls echoing off the walls and out the door, carried throughout Icy Creek by the wind.

Panting, Sora pushed his hands deeper into the flames, reaching desperately for the Keyhole. His hand closed around a coal, and his entire body shook as the pain traveled up his ruined arms to his brain, nearly falling unconscious to the floor if it hadn't been for the sheer power of the darkness holding him up, though it did nothing for the excruciating pain he was under. Mouth open and head titled back, he screamed silently, and it was then that he felt something wonderfully cool brush against his fingertips. He grabbed at it, crying in relief as his fingers outlined the cold Keyhole, and using the last bit of his strength, he pushed snakes of darkness through the Keyhole and out into the empty space between the worlds.

Each snake of darkness split into many smaller wisps and shot out, creating rips in the void between worlds, leaving dark tracks against the colorful trajectories. These wisps were not strong enough to breach the defenses of the worlds' Keyholes, but they were powerful enough force entryways into the worlds themselves, leaving cankerous wounds behind to fester, unable to heal. One such wisp traveled to the desert world of Kingdom Hearts, its distinctive heart shaped form setting it apart from all the other worlds around it, and wriggling around, the darkness felt a weak spot in the already-injured world's defenses and pushed hard against it. The thin barrier broke, and a vacuum formed, creating the swirling black vortex that had perplexed Winter, Hotaru, and Xenos, and whose powerful suction had taken many Chasers and deposited them in other worlds.

Glowing circles appeared at random intervals in every world touched by darkness, the ground soft and spongy beneath the multicolored web. One appeared next to Sora's feet in Icy Creek, and Argyros growled menacingly at it, hackles rising.

The largest snake of darkness did not leave Icy Creek, but traveled down to the heart of the world, wrapping around it and squeezing like an enormous python would do to its prey. The heart sagged, beating erratically in panic, and then shattered, the darkness falling in on itself to take the heart's place as a moldering and viscous shape shifting blob.

Immediately, the changes to Icy Creek were noticeable. The snow changed from pure white to a dingy gray. Limbs of trees blackened and their trunks sagged, roots popping through the frozen ground like bony fingers reaching for the night sky. Underneath the snow, the grass wilted and turned brown, and in preserved flowerbeds, petals drooped, their colors muted and washed-out. The tepid little stream from which the world was named turned from clear to inky black, and became a raging river, flooding fields and houses that were too close to it, sweeping away their existence. The moons were the only things left bright and untouched by darkness, and surrounded by tiny pinpricks of starlight, it seemed as if the moons were crying over the desecration of their world.

But the most startling change was also perhaps the smallest of the changes. Engraved upon the stones that the temple was built upon, was the name of the world, carved in proud bold letters that proclaimed _Icy Creek_ to all those who stood before it. Now, though, the letters shimmered and were struck down, as if smote by some invisible hand, and new letters, written Gothic print, took their place, scratching out the new name for this now desolate world.

Back inside the temple, as Sora withdrew his mangled hands from the fire, the flames turned deep purple, and he fell, drained, to the floor, the wolves nuzzling him gently. And on the stones outside, in the same dark purple of the flames, _Besmirched Sepulcher_ blazoned out into the night.

---------------

The sun was already high in the gray sky, shining weakly on the bleak landscape, when Sora finally awoke. He moaned, face plastered to the hard wooden floor, and his eyes fluttered, the clear blue now free of swirling patterns of black. Hazy stabs of pain worked their way up his arms to his sleep-numbed brain, and he groaned, his hair shifting slightly as he tried to bury his face into the floor, only to find that the floor was heavily resistant to his efforts, and that all he was doing was adding a headache to the already growing puzzling pain in his arms. With an indignant snuffle, he raised his head and opened his eyes fully.

The yellow eyes of a great silver wolf met his, and the two stared at each other, neither one blinking.

And then Sora yelled, eyes wide, pushing all his weight onto his hands in a desperate attempt to get away from the wolf, but as soon as the weight was transferred, his arms refused to hold him up, and he crashed back to the ground with bruising force, the dim pain in his arms escalating to excruciating torture that ravaged his nerves and made beads of sweat pop out on his forehead, despite the chill pervading throughout the room. Gasping, he rolled over onto his back, hissing as his arms peeled off the floor, and held his hands in midair, elbows resting against his chest, teeth gritted and eyes shut tight against the pain.

Now he recognized the pain lancing through his arms. There had been times, had been accidents, where he had been burned before, but it had never caused this kind of agony before. And, of course, there had been remedies then as well. This time, he had nothing.

Panting and shuddering, Sora opened one eye to just a mere sliver.

Black swam into focus. For a second, Sora thought he had gone blind. And then realization hit him. Bile rose to his throat, and he began to swallow convulsively, eyes widening alarmingly.

The area from his fingertips down to his elbows on both limbs did not even resemble the human arms they had once been. Instead, they were shrunken, misshapen, grotesque parodies of arms, the skin charred black and shriveled, his fingers curling inward to his palm, the skin too tight to allow them to straighten properly. Small patches of white dotted his fingers here and there, and with mounting horror, Sora realized that the skin there had been burned off completely, and that the patches of white were, in actuality, his bones showing through his ruined flesh.

He began to scream then, a piercing sound that sent crows flying from tree branches and made the two wolves pacing next to him flatten their ears in pain. He ran out of breath, inhaled quickly, and screamed again. And again. And again.

"Looks like somebody woke up." The mini-Sora was back. Sora kept screaming. "Oh, snap out of it!" Sora continued, the scream growing more frantic. "I said, _stop!_" At that, the mini-Sora sent a jab of darkness at Sora's heart, and it struck his heart like a dagger, causing enough of a shock to make Sora stop screaming. "Well, finally!"

"Wha…" Sora's throat felt as if it was on fire, and it hurt to force words out.

"Oh, shut up," the mini-Sora said bad-temperedly. "You should really fix those arms before another catastrophe happens, and you do something else to them."

"Can't," moaned Sora, weakly shaking his head, tears escaping the corners of his eyes at the unbearable pain.

"What do you mean, 'can't'?" the mini-Sora snapped.

"No…Keyblade."

"Idiot. You don't need your Keyblade to fix them." Sora shook his head again.

"Need the Keyblade," he croaked. The mini-Sora sighed, rolling its eyes.

"No, you don't. Now get up, and I'll show you how to fix them." Sora shook his head again. "If you don't get up, you won't find your Keyblade." Sora stayed where he was, and the mini-Sora sighed again. "Okay, fine, you don't need to get up. Do you see the Salvus Punctum next to you?

"The what?" Sora asked, blinking past the insistent throbbing of his arms. He tried not to look at them, lest he start screaming again.

"The glowing circle on the floor, just above your head," the mini-Sora explained, nodding its head upwards. Sora craned his neck as far as it would go to the side, and managed to catch the glimmer of something iridescent just above him.

"Yeah, I see it."

"Roll over and put your arms in it."

"What is it?" His throat hurt less now, and he was able to think clearer than before, though his voice still croaked.

"Like I said, it's a Salvus Punctum. I'll explain more after you put you hands in the damned thing." Sora obliged, correctly judging that the best thing to do at the moment was to listen to the little voice in his head (though at any other time, Sora might have questioned the sanity of doing this), rolling over slowly and stretching his arms out so that they broke the thin barrier around the glowing circle, grimacing as his charred flesh stretched to its breaking point. His grimace turned into a smile of relief as delicious coolness washed over his crippled arms, bathing them in welcome numbness. He sighed, head drooping.

"That's a relief," he said to the floor.

"What, you've never been burned before?" the mini-Sora mocked him.

"No," Sora said, lifting his head up, "there was this one time when I ran into a wall of fire, and then there was this other time when me, Donald, and Goofy were swallowed by a whale - I think its name was Monstro - and we had to poke around in its stomach. I ruined the bottom of my shoes and had to have Aerith fix them for me.

"You were swallowed by a whale…"

"Yeah, Donald was piloting the Gummi Ship, and the whale just showed up and swallowed us."

"What was a whale doing in Gummi Space?" Sora stopped and blinked.

"I don't know." Stumped, Sora frowned, trying to think of a reasonable explanation for why a whale was able to survive in Gummi Space. He couldn't find one, and he changed the subject rather quickly to get away from the puzzling question. "You said you'd explain what this thing is."

"You've never seen a Salvus Punctum before?" the mini-Sora asked, exasperated.

"Well, now I recognize it," Sora started, "but we never called them Sal…what you called it," he finished, giving upon pronouncing its name. "We just knew it could take us to the Gummi Ships or to other worlds. And…it healed our wounds, too…" he added on, suddenly feeling very, very, small and very stupid.

"Pity you didn't realize that sooner," the mini-Sora drawled, smirking to itself.

"Hey! I was in pain!" Sora snapped, the feelings of stupidity drowned out by feelings of belittlement. "I wasn't thinking straight!"

"Of course you weren't," the mini-Sora said consolingly, as if it were talking to a child. "And I suppose you never thought to ask what it was, either." Sora shook his head, cheeks tinged red. "Now you know it's a Salvus Punctum. And before you ask," the mini-Sora said as Sora opened his mouth, "you can call it a corrosion of sorts."

"A corrosion?" he echoed, thoroughly confused.

"Yes, a corrosion of magic." Sora nearly jerked his arms out of the Salvus Punctum. "You keep those in there!" the mini-Sora yelled, and Sora stopped fidgeting, chastised. It continued, "Fire, Water, Thunder, Time, Wind, Healing, Gravity, Summoning, and Deflection all condensed together in one spot creates the Salvus Punctum, and the surplus of magic corrodes the world's defenses in that place, making travel from world to world simple and painless. That's why when you step in one, you're able to move to a different world or enter a Gummi Ship."

"And the magic also heals wounds?" Sora asked. "But if it's corrosive…"

"It heals wounds because Cure magic is there," the mini-Sora answered. "And it's only harmful if you stand in one for years. But all magic is corrosive, anyway, so it's not like you can avoid it."

"All magic is corrosive?" Worry was creeping into his voice. "I used magic for two years, but I feel fine." The worry was still there, flavored with apprehension.

"It depends on how much magic you use, and how often you use it," the mini-Sora said flippantly. "Usually it's only magicians or wizards that it affects out-right and noticeably."

"Donald was the Court Wizard at Disney Castle," Sora said softly. "His voice always sounded strange."

"See? There you go." The mini-Sora did not bother to mention that Sora's use of magic had also caused irreparable damage to himself as well. The only difference was that Sora's corrosion was in a place where it could not be seen. No, the wound had taken its toll on something that was barely even tangible, and without the aid of those who truly understood the malady, it had festered and feasted, eating away unstoppably until barely even a sliver of Sora's conscious was left. And even now, that emaciated web was starting to collapse, strand by strand, and only the mini-Sora knew, and it was not saying a word.

---------------

EDITED! CHAPTER 6 HAS BEEN ADDED TO! GO READ THE ENTIRE HORROR!!!!1111oneoneone

Yeah, so, anyway, I gave up on the Superbowl. I had enough of the whole, "SAC HIM! SAC HIM! HIT HIM IN THE KNEE! CREAM HIM!" so I just went upstairs and typed. Hate football…

So, yeah, I'm going to see The Messengers as soon as possible, and maybe sneak in Hannibal Rising, if I can. Pan's Labyrinth is on the list too, but I'm a little hesitant to see that one, with the whole 'death by glass bottle' thing. Yeah, glass bottles scare me in ways cannibals cannot. I should shut up now…

And finally, liany invited me to this Hi5 thing, so now I have an account. I'll post the link on my profile sooner or later, in case anybody wants to go check it out. They made me put in a picture, and the only one I had (that I felt was good enough) was from Halloween, and it's such a bloody horrible picture its fetchin' hilarious (I did the 'take a picture in front of the mirror no-no'). Brownie points to anybody who can actually figure out who I was supposed to be.

Don't forget, read and review!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Morgana Maeve

So it's around 10:30 at night, and I'm bored, so I dig out my shoebox full of make-up and decide to paint my nails blood red. Yeah, blood red.

It looks so horrible. I feel like an old lady trying desperately to be Goth.

On another note, I finally broke my mouse. Apparently, the clicky things have some sort of thingy on them that makes them click, and collisions with walls knock these thingies out of place. So now my mouse has no cover on it, and I have a permanent indent on my index finger from pressing the thingy-less clicky thing.

And no, I won't use the one from the big computer because it has no right-click. I scoff thee Apple mouses! You suck!

Disclaimer – I own only the trio of OC's and any other OC that may pop up. Sora and the Kingdom Hearts series belongs to Square and Disney. (Speaking of which, the trailer for KH:FM plus has been released. Fangirls, be prepared to drool, for the trailer is the sex.)

---------------

Xenos, Hotaru, and Winter had not fared well after their encounter with the perplexing vortex. Cuts, bruises, and other such injuries that are acquired after falling a rather large distance onto hard desert sand and Chasers sat heavily on the trio's tempers, and even the slightest of grievances set said tempers flaring. Xenos and Winter found themselves in one such flare, started by the subtle insinuation by Winter that the group should take a rest. Xenos did not believe something so trivial was necessary.

"But I'm tired! Can't we just rest for a little while?" Winter begged, her voice taking on that wheedling quality that irked Xenos to the point of slightly homicidal rage.

"You can take a break if you want to," he said though clenched teeth, "and the rest of us will just leave you here. And then we'll come back to get you, _if_ we remember."

"You're not being fair!" Winter accused, after a moment of affronted silence. "You're such a jerk!" she added, sticking out her tongue at him emphatically.

"You know what?" Xenos asked, his voice dangerously quiet. "I may be a jerk, but you're ugly. And being ugly is worse than being a jerk, because I can work at not being a jerk, but you'll never be able to fix you terrifying ugliness."

Winter began to cry then, sitting splayed-legged on the sand, her head in her hands, face red, sobbing loudly. Xenos fretted next to her, torn between acting justified and falling into a complete and total panic.

"Are you finished?" Hotaru asked, finally joining the conversation.

"She started it!" Xenos yelled righteously. "She started complaining first!" Winter chose this time to interrupt with several choice words for Xenos, none of which were appropriate for anybody who had been brought up civilly.

"Watch your mouth," Hotaru snapped, jerking Winter's cape so that she fell flat on her back.

"Jeez, way to break someone's neck, Hotaru," Xenos muttered reproachfully, and he was rewarded with a cape-snap of his own, his head jerking backwards. "Damn it, Hotaru!"

"Don't say you didn't deserve that," she answered, flicking her hair back. He opened his mouth, probably to deliver a scathing retort, but Hotaru advanced at him, her arm outstretched, and he wisely changed his tirade to a different topic.

"Why did Kallisto add these stupid things on, anyway?" he grumbled, pulling irritably in the fabric. "What's the point to them?"

"I like them," Winter interjected. "I think they look nice." Judging by Xenos's face, this harmless comment was about to snowball into another, possibly violent, argument, and Hotaru stepped forward, eager to derail any further altercations.

As it turned out, she needn't to do or say anything, for, at that moment, an eerily iridescent circle sprouted from the ground, its shimmering light creating a halo in the air above it. It was quite effective in stopping the bickering of the three friends, who all jumped back, Keyblades out and readied for battle. They circled the mysterious object, keeping a safe distance away from it.

"What is it?" Winter whispered, though she didn't have to; the dry air carried every sound and amplified it as well.

"I don't know," Hotaru answered, edging closer to it.

"Is it a Chaser?" Winter whispered again.

"I just said I didn't know!" was the reply.

"It doesn't look like it's about to attack," Xenos observed, inching closer as well.

"Maybe it's sleeping."

"Maybe you should shut up."

"I don't think it's dangerous in the sense of it attacking us," Hotaru stated, the only rational statement made so far.

"Well, there's only one way to find out," Xenos declared decisively. He stood straight at full height, and before anyone could point out that his method was probably not the best action to take, he threw his Keyblade with all his might at the glowing circle. It hit true to its mark, piercing the heart of the object squarely. It stayed there for a few seconds, and then, with a rather interesting slurping sound, the Keyblade _disappeared through the iridescent core._

Hotaru, Xenos, and Winter all stared open mouthed at the spot where Xenos's proud Keyblade had once stood before panic set in.

"Did you see that!" Winter cried to the agape Hotaru, while Xenos stared, horrified at the thing, saying, "It ate my Keyblade!"

"I think we should calm down and think this through," Hotaru said, but no one paid her any mind.

"It ate my Keyblade!"

"Xenos, I really think you should stay calm."

"It ate my Keyblade!"

"Xenos, your eyes are popping out."

"It _ate _my Keyblade!"

"Grab him before he does something stupid!" Unfortunately, Hotaru and Winter only managed to painfully bang heads as they both dove to stop Xenos, who took a running leap straight into the mysterious, glowing thing and disappeared just like his Keyblade with another, louder, slurp.

"It just ate Xenos!" Winter yelped, wavering on the brink of hysteria. Hotaru cursed, and, grabbing Winter by her cape and dragging the unresisting teen, too jumped in after Xenos.

Flashing lights.

That's all any of the three could remember. Flashing lights and a slight pulling at their legs, as if something was trying to stretch them out lengthwise. Hotaru managed to catch a glimpse of a few mammoth blocks, all colorful and glowing, with something navigating around them_…"Good heavens above, what was that shooting out from it?"_ she thought, gasping at the small explosions erupting around the flying thing. But the gasp wouldn't come, and she realized quite unexpectedly that she couldn't breathe. She panicked, trying to thrash her limbs, but she couldn't move, and just when she thought she was going to die, she found herself writhing on the ground, covered in sweat, taking in air with great gulps. A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see Xenos, standing over her with big eyes.

"Where's Winter?" she croaked, her voice hoarse. Xenos shook his head, his eyes growing more worried. There was a small burst of light, and then there was Winter, scrambling across the ground on all fours, leaping up and taking three wobbling steps, only to crash back to the floor, chest heaving.

"What," she panted, "was that?"

"I have no idea," Xenos answered, the first to be recovered. "But I think we have bigger things to worry about." Hotaru was going to ask him what he meant by that, but after a few minutes of lying on the ground, she became aware that it didn't feel like sand. It wasn't even close to the hot, grainy texture of Kingdom Hearts. And she was feeling something she hadn't in years, something she hadn't thought she would ever feel again. She felt cold on her helmet-less face. The air here was cold.

"Xenos," she murmured, "what have you done?"

"Um, guys?" Winter had recovered enough as well to look about at her surroundings. "Do you guys recognize any of this?"

"Where the sun?" Xenos asked at the same time, looking up at the gray sky. "There's no sun! I didn't do that!"

"Those are clouds," Hotaru said, standing up next to Xenos, examining the gray expanse above them.

"Clouds?" Xenos echoed. He had a right to be confused; Kingdom Hearts had no cloud cover. It was always sunny, with no change in the weather. There were no seasons, no cold, no weather, no nothing except blistering heat all year 'round. Underneath the hard crust of sand was the only source of water, and that was how the people of Kingdom Hearts survived, as did a few strong, long-rooted plants.

"They're blocking the sun," Hotaru explained further. "In a few days, maybe even hours, the sun will come out again."

"My face hurts," Winter said, and sure enough, when Xenos and Hotaru turned to look at her, her nose was red, and her lips were beginning to chap. Their faces hurt as well, they realized, and after a moment's panic by Xenos, Hotaru was able to explain why, though all she had to offer were very vague memories.

"We're just not used to the cold, that's all," she said, trying to discreetly rub her nose and rid it of the embarrassing line of mucus that was beginning to stream down from the offending appendage. She gave up when she realized Winter and Xenos were doing it too, and for a minute, they all sniffled and rubbed, but to no avail.

"You know," Xenos said stuffily, "when I get cold, my nose does not do this."

"That's because this is a different kind of cold," Hotaru snapped, more upset about her loss of dignity then with him.

"What do you mean, different kind of cold?" This came from Winter, who had placed her hands to her face in an attempt to warm it. It didn't help much; her metal and leather armor had already lost all its heat gained from Kingdom Hearts, and it was colder than her face was.

Hotaru grabbed for words for a minute and then shrugged and decided it would be best to just come out and say, "I don't think we're still in Kingdom Hearts." There was silence for a minute while that statement was processed.

"Not in Kingdom Hearts!"

"How?"

"Are we dead!"

"Then where the hell are we?"

"We're dead, aren't we? That's why it's so cold!"

"Can you panic somewhere else?"

"Everybody shut up!" Hotaru finally yelled, successfully catching the two younger ones' attention. She exhaled loudly. "We're not dead. That much I know. And no, I do not know what world we're on," she said, correctly predicting Xenos's next question. "But we're definitely in a different world."

"Yeah, one very screwed up world where its 'different kind of cold' makes your lips itch," Xenos snapped. "Oh, damn it all, my lip cracked!"

"Stop picking on it," Hotaru admonished. "And this is probably very normal for this world anyway. It seems like it's winter here." Confused stares greeted this statement, and Xenos pointed to Winter with a questioning look.

"She's causing it to be cold?" he asked in amazement, staring at her. Winter put her hands up and shook her head.

"I'm not doing anything."

"You're both being ridiculous," Hotaru said, rubbing the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "Winter gets her namesake from the season of winter. We don't have that season in Kingdom Hearts."

"Wait, wait," Xenos said, shaking his head. "Let me get this straight. You're saying that she," he pointed to Winter, "is named for a season, whatever that is, that we don't have." Hotaru nodded. "And this season of winter is cold?" She nodded again. "It suits her. Perfectly, in fact."

"You're a jerk," Winter told him. "It's too bad your mother didn't name you Annoying Jerk-Face."

"That was lame, Winter," Xenos laughed. "Is the cold affecting you brain? Or do you even have one to affect?"

"If there was anybody brainless here, it would be you, Xenos."

"Between the two of you, I'd say you both have less then a quarter of a brain," Hotaru broke in, pulling off one leather glove to rub her numbed face, and feeling came back to it in prickles of pain. She scuffed the ground with her boot, feeling the way the texture grabbed at it. _"Concrete,"_ she thought. She wondered fleetingly, as Winter and Xenos bickered good-naturedly, if she had once been to this world before…but no, time worked differently in Kingdom Hearts, and what had been ten years there may have been hundreds elsewhere. These memories of pinpricks of cold - _"Snow,"_ her mind procured -were from some other place. She sighed, her breath condensing in front of her, a miniature cloud in a gray expanse, and Hotaru was struck with how evanescent it was. _"Am I,"_ she wondered, _"like that?"_

Her reverie and wonderings were cut short, however, when Xenos suddenly flopped onto his back, holding his nose, and shaking his head.

"Did you hit him?" Hotaru asked Winter, slightly amazed that their argument had escalated into blows.

"No!" Winter protested, shaking her head emphatically. "We were just messing around, and then he fell!"

"Is anybody going to ask me if I'm okay?" Xenos asked from his position on the ground. He stood, rubbing his nose, which was swelling at an alarming rate.

"If you can stand up and complain, then you're fine," Hotaru answered back. "What happened?"

"Hell if I know," Xenos grumbled. "I was talking to Winter, and then all of a sudden, something smashed me in the nose and I'm down on the ground."

"Did you see what hit you?"

"I think it was blue," Xenos said, after a moment's pause. "And round." He glared at Winter. "If I find out you had anything to do with it, so help me…"

"Incoming!" Winter yelled, and Xenos turned around just in time to receive another blow to the face. He went down again with an oath.

"Damn it!"

"Did you see what it was?" Winter asked Hotaru, who had her Keyblade summoned and poised for action.

"No," she answered, carefully watching the nearest fringe of leafless trees, their trunks a muted brown in the gloom, for any movement.

"Something moved from behind that tree," Winter whispered, ruining the secrecy by pointing.

"I think it was an animal," Hotaru whispered back, but she turned out to be wrong as something came flashing at her face, like it had done to Xenos. Hotaru had quicker reflexes than he did, however, and she managed to bat the thing away with her Keyblade, whatever it was clattering to the ground.

"What is it?" Xenos asked from his protective to himself position behind Hotaru. His nose was more swollen than before, and Winter snickered quietly at him. "Shut up."

"I don't know," Hotaru said, walking over to where the thing had fallen, stopping to pick it up. Xenos grabbed her by her cape and dragged her back.

"It could be dangerous!" he yelled to the surprised Hotaru, who was looking at him as if he had grown two heads. "You don't know what it is!"

"Actually," she snapped, "I do. And it's not that dangerous."

"Then what is it?"

"It's a yo-yo." Xenos frowned.

"A yo-yo…"

"Yes, a yo-yo."

"And what exactly is a yo-yo?" Xenos asked, frowning harder, his eyebrows knitting together.

"It's a toy," Hotaru explained.

"A toy?" echoed Winter, who had scurried over to the 'yo-yo' and had picked it up, bringing it back to the other two. "What does it do?"

"Besides hitting people in the face?" Xenos muttered, but no one paid any attention to him.

"They usually have string attached to them, and you just pull them up and down," Hotaru said, largely making up what she was telling them, for she really didn't have any particular memories pertaining to actually playing with a yo-yo. She just remembered what the word was associated with.

"And I suppose hitting people in the face is just an added plus?" Xenos asked sarcastically, more to the yo-yo than to Hotaru.

"Will you let it go already?" Winter snapped, annoyed. "Jeez, you're not dying."

"How do you know? The thing could be poisoned!"

"Ha ha! But it's not!" a new voice piped up, coming from the general direction of the trees nearest to the trio. All three jumped. "Take that!" Another yo-yo flew out at them, and Hotaru once again batted it away. "Aw, you're not supposed to do that! Stand still!"

"Is he serious?" Xenos asked in indignation. "Tell me, is he serious?"

"I am always serious!" came the answer, and something…somebody…slipped out of the tree, making a desperate attempt to land on its feet, but failing miserably. "Ow!" The person stood up, dusting himself, as it was now possible to identify the person as a 'he,' and adopted a rather ridiculous pose, one leg far behind the other, and his hands up in front of him. Messy black bangs fell into his eyes, and he shook his head for a few seconds, trying to get them into a more favorable position. He made it worse.

"What is this?" Xenos asked, his indignation growing. "What the hell is this?" Winter shrugged, just as confused as everyone else.

"Come," the boy – he couldn't have been much older than Winter – said, "fight me if you dare, for I am Gavin, the great yo-yo ninja!"

"Yo-yo ninja," Hotaru repeated, sounding faintly amused.

"He can't be serious," Xenos said again, shaking his head. "He cannot be serious. You are not serious," he said to Gavin.

"I am serious," Gavin answered, grinning widely. He held out his hand. "But can I have my yo-yos back, please?" Xenos stopped in bewilderment, and Gavin took that time to whip out two more yo-yos from his pockets. "Ha! I have multiple yo-yo's!" He began to swing them around in a complicated pattern, advancing towards Xenos, who was backing away in total bemusement, throwing helpless looks over his shoulder to Hotaru and Winter, the latter bent over double in silent laughter. "Ha ha! What will you do now?" Gavin asked, but before Xenos could reply, his yo-yo strings tangled together, and both yo-yos made a spectacular drop straight between his legs, complete with a loud slap. "Oh, not good, not good," he mumbled, rolling onto his side. Xenos merely stared at him in horrified wonderment, while Winter brayed with laughter behind him. Even Hotaru was amused, if the suspicious coughs hidden beneath her hand were any indication.

"I give up," announced Xenos. "I give up, I don't care anymore, I just want to go back to Kingdom Hearts."

"What about your Keyblade?" Hotaru asked, trying to suppress a smile.

"I forgot about that. Hey, you!" He grabbed Gavin by his shoulder. "Snap out of it!" Gavin groaned a little in response. "Did you see my Keyblade?"

"What's a Keyblade," Gavin asked, more or less unharmed, sitting down cross-legged on the cold ground. "You can sit; I was only messing with you." Xenos rolled his eyes, and beckoned for the two girls to come over.

"Just answer the question: Did you or did you not see my Keyblade?" Xenos asked again.

"How can he answer that if he doesn't know what one is?" Winter whispered to Hotaru, who shrugged.

"I don't know, but don't bring yours out. We don't know who he is."

"Can you tell me what it looks like?" Gavin asked, trying to be helpful.

"It looks like a giant key," Winter supplied.

"Oh, you mean like this?" Gavin pulled out a key ring covered in keys. "Are any of these what you're looking for?" Xenos growled and knocked him in the head for good measure. "Hey! What was that for!"

"For being an ass," Xenos snapped. "Don't be stupid! A Keyblade is a weapon. Don't listen to what Winter tells you. She lies."

"Thank you, Xenos," Winter answered.

"Oh, you mean like the one she had?" Gavin asked, pointing to Hotaru. Xenos nodded while Winter glared at Hotaru.

"Oh sure, it's fine for your Keyblade to be seen but not mine."

"Stop acting your age." Winter raised an eyebrow at Hotaru, and she shrugged, half smiling.

"I haven't seen anything like that," Gavin was saying, wringing his hands at Xenos. "But I can help you look for it! I'm useful!"

"Really…" Hotaru said dryly. Gavin pulled another pose, arms pumping the air.

"I am the great yo-yo ninja! Of course I'm useful! Follow me!" He jumped up quickly, spry as a weed, and ran off, stopping only once to call out, "You're going too slow!"

"He's deluded," Xenos said in passing, resigning himself to following what he thought was a complete mental case.

As it turned out, Xenos may have had a point, since all the 'Great Yo-Yo Ninja Gavin' did was lead them to a scraggly bunch of trees where a small bonfire crackled in the cold. An equally small tent was propped up against two sagging tree trunks, obviously made impromptu from what appeared to be a large sheet draped over string. A large patch of burned grass testified to a time when the small fire must of burned out of control, and suddenly, Winter looked away, embarrassed by something she couldn't quite name.

Gavin didn't seem to mind showing off his makeshift home to the trio though. He immediately sat down in front of the fire, beckoning for his newly found acquaintances to sit as well.

"Want one?" he asked, offering a bag at Xenos. He peered in at the flaky contents, and gingerly picked up one with two fingers.

"What is it?" Xenos asked, eyeing the thing in distaste.

"It's a potato chip," Gavin answered around the several already in his mouth. Crumbs sprayed in front of him, and Hotaru inched sideways, away from him. Xenos looked to her for help, but Hotaru could not recall any memory of 'potato chips,' and so she shrugged, leaving Xenos to his own devices. He waited until Gavin tipped the entire bag into his mouth and then threw the chip into the fire.

"So," Winter said, trying to make conversation. "Do you live here?" Gavin snorted.

"Yeah, right," he snickered. "I've only been here for a few days. Can't you tell?"

"Not really." It was Xenos who had answered him. "What are you doing here then?"

"Camping out." Gavin grinned and gave him thumbs up, which Xenos warily returned, his facial expression betraying his consternation. "You see," Gavin continued, "there's this town at the edge of the forest, and that's were I used to live, but this giant monster-thing suddenly showed up about two days ago and started destroying everything. I mean it totally demolished everything in sight. So, me and practically everyone else got out of there, and I came here." He said that last part to the fire its merry brightness reflecting in Gavin's dark eyes, and he just looked so sad and alone that Winter couldn't help but reach over to him and pat him on the arm. Something in her heart told her they were akin in some ways.

"We'll take care of it," she said, her own brown eyes deadly serious.

"You will?" Such unwarranted hope in his voice. He was too trustworthy; too willing play his cards too soon. So out of place in the gloomy cold that wasn't perturbed by the fire.

"We will?" Xenos asked, peering over the tips of the flames at Winter. "You can't just volunteer us into random acts of charity, you know. Besides, how am I to fight without my Keyblade? And how do you know this giant monster thing is what you think it is, for another matter?"

"I didn't say I thought it was Chaser," Winter snapped. "And you don't have to fight. I'm sure Hotaru and I can take it, whatever it is."

"You were thinking it," Xenos retorted.

"And what makes you think I'm going to help?" Hotaru asked.

"Because you always end up helping."

"Who are you guys, anyway?" It seemed as if Gavin had finally realized he had never once laid eyes on his guests before. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"I…er…um…uh…we…erm…" Winter looked to Xenos for help, but he was floundering for words as well.

"You guys are warriors, aren't you?" Gavin suddenly spouted, with so much enthusiasm, he nearly fell over into the fire. "And you've come here to battle the giant monster thing! Awesome!" The three friends looked at each other.

"Whatever he wants to believe," Xenos said. "I'm not going to fight with him."

"But you're going to fight the monster thing, aren't you?" Winter asked, grinning. Xenos gave her a blank look, and when she grinned harder at him, he sighed and got up.

"Come on, show me where this 'monster thing' is at." Gavin looked up at him in surprise.

"You're gonna fight it now?"

"The sooner I fight the damned thing, the sooner I can find my Keyblade. Winter, give me yours."

"I'm not allowed to fight?"

"Just give me the damn Keyblade." Winter shrugged, semi-hurt, and summoned her Keyblade, tossing it to Xenos.

"Whoa, how did you do that?" Nobody paid Gavin any attention.

"This thing is light! You're puny, Winter."

"Take Hotaru's if you're going to complain."

"He will do no such thing."

Xenos snickered. "Looks like I'm stuck with this one!" He turned to Gavin. "Lead the way, oh great yo-yo ninja." Winter rolled her eyes.

---------------

A short trek through the rather dull forest (not even the trio, who had never seen a forest before save Hotaru, found it noteworthy) led the four to the desolate outskirts that marked the entryway to the town. Surrounded by gray sky, it barely even existed, dilapidated buildings sagging on crumbling foundations. All around, the ominous sounds of creaking boards filled the air, and the wind whispered melancholy secrets to the four, who all stood shivering at the cusp of the town, shaking not from cold, but from the ghostly silence emitted from the destroyed town.

That silence was shattered, however, as a long, unearthly shriek rose from behind the closest row of houses to the four. Like metal scrapping against metal, the shriek rose to a clamor, a cacophony of piercing noise that caused window glass to shudder in its frames. It ended abruptly, and then started again, this time low and hoarse, steadily moving from one house to another. And then it stopped again.

The silence was deafening.

Hotaru, Xenos, and Winter said no words, but communicated through quick hand gestures accentuated by vigorous head movements. Xenos stepped forward first, followed by Hotaru, who had placed her helmet on to better locate the source of the shrieking. Winter stayed behind, protection for Gavin, the weakest of those present.

It was awkward for Xenos to be carrying such a light weapon; years of wielding his own Keyblade had made him accustomed its heavy reassurance, its weight comforting against his shoulders or in his hands. Winter's seemed flimsy in comparison, and not at all comforting. Not to mention that the Keyblade knows who is to wield it. These weapons had of mind of their own, and they were perfectly aware of who they had entrusted themselves to. The slight buzzing of the Keyblade in his hand testified to that. It was rejecting him earlier than wonted, but Xenos hoped it would stay subjected to him long enough to slay whatever it was producing the shrieking.

He really ought to just give the Keyblade back to Winter, and hope that the two girls would be strong enough to take down the creature, but Xenos was loathe to do so. He hated to see either one get hurt, and he knew from painful experience that Winter, when left to her own devices, was very self-destructive, whether or not she intended to be so. Hotaru was smart, and she could take after herself, but Winter was more fragile than she was, both physically and mentally, and it was rare that Winter ever escaped a battle unscathed.

"We're right in front of it," whispered Hotaru, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Do you know what it is?" he whispered back, trying to instill some confidence back into himself. The buzzing of the Keyblade was becoming more intense, his entire hand vibrating along with it. He tried to still it, but failed miserably.

"It's a Cri Perçant. Very powerful. Attacks are mostly physical, and – oh, you'll love this – can heal itself with its shriek. Sounds lovely."

"How much Health does it have?"

"More than enough to shame most Chasers."

"So it is a Chaser."

"My readings are getting stronger. It's going to attack."

No sooner had Hotaru said this did the Cri Perçant fly out from behind a burned house, the entire frame collapsing from the force of the attack. With long talons and even longer white hair, wisps of it floating freely in the air, it made a frightful sight; its slanted, yellow eyes open wide, studying Hotaru and Xenos with cunning intelligence. It opened its mouth, jawbones cracking and popping, revealing sharp teeth, and from its open maw, that otherworldly sound came forth, making the two cringe back, their ears ringing. It shot towards them, arms outstretched.

Hotaru was ready for it though, and before it could react, she flicked her Keyblade at it, sending a small ball of flame directly in line for its open mouth.

"_If you got it, use it,"_ she thought, though the idea of her using magic still scared her greatly.

The fireball hit the Cri Perçant head on, and there was a muffled scream as smoke filled the air. Cold wind batted it away, and there stood the Cri Perçant, shaking its head, not a mark on it. Hotaru's eyes widened in fear. It was immune to magic.

Irritated, the Cri Perçant launched itself at Hotaru again, and she dove for the ground, yelling, "Xenos, use physical attacks! Magic's no good!" though it truly made no difference. Xenos couldn't use magic. He readied himself, and just when the Cri Perçant was in striking range, he raised Winter's Keyblade, bringing it down with deadly force, the descent faster than what it would have been with his true Keyblade.

The swing never connected.

Xenos gasped as the Keyblade disappeared in an explosion of light, heard Winter's startled scream as the Keyblade reappeared in the hands of its rightful owner, and saw the Cri Perçant's sharp talons spread further, ready to encompass his head.

Time slowed. Seconds ticked by as the Cri Perçant closed in on him, and, as the first talon closed over his helmet, time stopped. But not even Hotaru's strange brand of magic, magic completely unrelated to her use of Fire, could stop the Cri Perçant. Its hand closed over Xenos's helmet, and with a sharp crack, it crumpled, crushed in the deadly grip of the Cri Perçant. Faintly, over the sharp sound of splintering metal, Xenos heard the steady pounding of his heart.

---------------

Yays, done with a new chapter.

So I finally saw _Silent Hill_ last night, and while it wasn't as scary as I had been led to believe, it was still quite an enjoyable way to waste two hours. Loved Pyramid Head, he was hot. And the thing in the restroom stall, that was awesome too. The ending was bloody as hell though, and that was where I started yelling, "EW! EW!! GROSS!!!" Now, to see _Dead Silence. _That'll be fun. Always have hated dolls, especially the one hiding out in my closet, creepy little bugger it is.

On a totally different note, MARRY ME, QUINTON FLYNN! Okay, it's out of system now. I'll return to normalcy…eventually. (Total Quinton Flynn fangirl.)

Don't forget to read and review!


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